The Wheel of Destiny
by Relena Duo
Summary: In Harry's first year at Hogwarts the Wheel of Destiny turned and three students and another non-student were transported back in time. Time later the Wheel of Destiny turned once again and four elder adults had a BIG surprise.
1. The Wheel turns once

Name: Wheel of Destiny

Summary: In Harry's first year at Hogwarts the Wheel of Destiny turned and three students and another non-student were transported back in time. Time later the Wheel of Destiny turned once again and four elder adults had a BIG surprise.

So this came to me after I found all those fanfic where Harry and co. turn out to be the Founders of Hogwarts. You might be asking yourselves what makes this fanfic different? Well, I was also reading Terry Pratchett's Discworld when I began to write this so you might notice some parallels though I try to keep this free from looking like other people's work. I'll rant later on about what my reasoning is behind some of the stuff that'll be happening here, but for now I'll just shut up and let you enjoy this ridiculously short chapter.

 **CHAPTER 1: The Wheel turns once**

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Fate is a funny thing. It doesn't always have much to do, but when it does, it's a whole lot of messed up work.

Another funny thing about Fate is that it doesn't always want to work much – it hates to do much a hassle for anyone, nothing personal at all – there's a reason why most of us go through a life that isn't very much interesting and only a few ever experience something worth telling their grandchildren.

Some might call Fate unfair, or unjust, or just plain evil. Some might even call it a bitch even when they have no evidence to back up that Fate might be a woman, when it actually might be a man.

Truth is, it's neither. It's just humans thinking that because they have only two genders that the rest of the universe is also trapped limited to one of those two genders.

But never mind the sordid business of the rest of the universe, we are here to uncover the true reason why Fate only choose a few to do extraordinary things and the rest of are left to only write or read about them.

It's all because Fate is probably the laziest being to ever exist since the beginning of time – and also because it's a bitch, but who cares about the details?

Now, on one such a day on which Fate had absolutely nothing planned to aside from lying on its metaphorical couch and laze away the hours that Time had given it to live, Fortune came and poke it in its metaphorical ribs.

Fate gave a yelp and somewhere in Australia a young guy won the jackpot.

Fortune was glaring at Fate and making angry and impolite gestures with its metaphorical arms and hands.

Fate glared at Fortune with its metaphorical eyes and the same guy that had just won the jackpot in Australia was run over by a truck while crossing the street.

Time came also along and pointed at its metaphorical watch on its metaphorical wrist.

Fate frowned at both of them and gave up. And here it was trying to have a nice day – what a waste.

Fate nodded reluctantly with its metaphorical head that everything would be done accordingly.

Giving a quick holler for Destiny and its Wheel, Fate began a whole lot of intricate movements with its metaphorical body, leaving the other entities present wondering why Fate had been allowed a metaphorical body in the first place.

Destiny arrived soon enough with its Wheel and began turning at the exact moment when Fate gave it its cue.

In that exact same moment, in Scotland, in the enchanted castle of Hogwarts, between the fourth and fifth floor, on the stairs, Ron Weasley was chatting animatedly with his two friends about the upcoming Cannons Quidditch game when he placed his left foot on the next step.

CRACK.

For the first time in over amillennia since the creation of Hogwarts, one of its steps broke.

Ron flailed and tried madly to regain his balance – if there was one thing a boy learned from living in a house full of people and with many stairs, was to regain your balance when one of your brothers tripped you. So he momentarily did just that.

Fate gave a wild jolt that actually had Fortune raising a metaphorical eyebrow at it.

Ron didn't regain his balance.

He fell down and with the right momentum began to roll down the remaining steps – the shouts of his distressed friends a mere background noise as he was sure he heard more than one crack as he tumbled down.

Fate relaxed and sat back down on its metaphorical couch. Death poked its metaphorical head in, but was quickly dismissed.

The adventure, had after all, just begun.

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 **Once again I have a first chapter that's short and I can tell you the next chapter won't be much better, but after that you'll get real long ones, and that's a promise.**


	2. The Wheel turns twice

**Here's the second chapter. Still a bit short but the next one will be longer.**

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CHAPTER 2: The Wheel turns twice.

Ron groaned in frustration as he looked sullenly down at his broken leg.

"But Mooooooom", he whined.

"But nothing young man", snapped Mrs. Weasley, "You'll be taking all the potions Madame Pomfrey gives you without a sound", sagging a bit she added, "You know they're only for your own good Ronnie, you had an ugly fall and still need a lot of potions before you're back to your former self, dear."

Ron crossed his arms and pouted like any proper eleven year old should when faced with a similar dilemma.

"Fine, I'll take the potions", he conceded.

Mrs. Weasley smiled brightly and stood up from his bed, "That's good Ronnie, I'll send you just for that reason an extra bar of chocolate from Romania when we go visit Charlie."

Ron brightened visibly, "Really?"

"No fair!", complained Ginny, who had come with her mother to Hogwarts to check on her brother.

"Ginerva, your brother has seriously injured himself, have a little compassion", said Mrs. Weasley.

It was Ginny's turn to pout.

"Mrs. Weasley?", asked Madame Pomfrey, coming into the infirmary, "The Headmaster is here to talk with you."

"Oh, good, let him in please", said Mrs. Weasley.

Dumbledore came in seconds later with a portly man with a bushy white moustache in tow.

"Good evening Mrs. Weasley, how is Ron going?", he asked, the usual twinkle in his eyes brightening as he watched Ron chase a chocolate frog over his bed with slow movements, his body still too sore and in no condition for quick, jerking movements.

"Ron is coming around well, Madame Pomfrey tells me it'll be another few days before she lets him go."

"Excellent", said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling madly, "May I introduce you to Mr. Klein, here, he is an acclaimed expert on stair building, preservation, upgrading and design."

Mr. Klein offered a meaty hand which Mrs. Weasley shook in turn.

"Pleased to meet you", said Mrs. Weasley.

"Pleasure is mine, I hope to prevent anything like this happening ever again, I'll be having all the stairs in the castle ship-shape in a few months, might even get rid of that bothersome vanishing step, will reduce injuries a great deal as well."

"That sounds – um – good I guess", said Mrs. Weasley.

Madame Pomfrey was listening in at this point – Klein noticed.

"Imagine Madame! All those nasty injuries caused by stairs will be no more! How many of those do you get a year?"

"Not many, really."

"Perhaps we should continue this in my office?", suggested Dumbledore, "Ron's friends are outside wanting to visit him before their curfew."

"Very well then", agreed Mrs. Weasley and followed Dumbledore and Mr. Klein out the infirmary.

Hermione and Harry rushed in towards Ron's bed.

"RON!", Hermione almost threw herself on Ron, but stopped herself on the last moment, remembering Ron's multiple injuries, "Oh, Ron, we're so glad you'll get better, you scared us badly!"

"She's right Ron", agreed Harry seriously.

"You're Ron's sister, right", Hermione asked Ginny, who was shying away from the group.

"Oh, yeah", Ron tried to sit up straighter and winced, "Hermione, Harry, that's Ginny. Ginny, that's Harry and Hermione."

"Hi", mumbled Ginny softly and gave a shy wave.

"She wanted to come see Hogwarts", explained Ron.

"Oh! I almost forgot", said Hermione and got a couple of chocolate frogs from her pockets and began swapping cards with Ron. Harry was left to awkwardly strike up a conversation with Ginny.

Somewhere else, on the land that both doesn't exist and does indeed exist, Fate was once again making intricate movements. Time on the other hand, was setting its metaphorical hands to work.

Ron had just finished swapping his card of Merlin for Hermione's card of Agrippa when he looked up and saw a bright light coming from the Astronomy Tower.

"What's that?", everybody's attention was diverted to the Astronomy Tower.

"That's – strange", said Hermione uncertainly.

"What do you reckon it could be?", asked Harry as he peered through the window.

"You think it could have to do with the secret behind the three headed dog?", asked Ron,slowly climbing out of his bed.

"Th-three head dog?", squeaked Ginny.

"Don't scare her, Ron!", reprimanded Hermione.

"You think there's something happening up there?", Ron asked Harry, ignoring Hermione.

"Should we go check out?", asked Harry uncertainly.

"Boys!", exclaimed Hermione, "You'll only get in trouble!"

"It's not curfew yet, Hermione", argued Ron.

"We wouldn't be breaking any rules", added Harry.

"C-could I go as well?", asked Ginny hopefully.

"B-but Ron is hurt!", she argued back.

"I took my potions!", said Ron.

Hermione levelled a Look at him.

Ron visibly squirmed, "Fine! I didn't take them – but I'll take them as soon as we're back."

They all looked hopefully at Hermione.

Finally, she relented.

"Fine, but Ron isn't going to move from his bed again till Madame Pomfrey authorizes it."

They all agreed readily and before Hermione's sense of impending trouble could overwhelm her they were already halfway towards the Astronomy Tower, the Lights still shining brightly.

At the foot of the Astronomy Tower's stairs Hermione was strongly hoping that somebody would voice their doubts about the issue and suggest they went back.

Unfortunately, as Fate would have it, nobody voiced their doubts and so continued onwards.

At the top of the Tower the Lights were bright bordering on blinding.

"Why hasn't anybody come to see what's happening?", asked Harry as they noticed that nobody besides them had yet arrived.

"Search me", said Ron.

"Look!", said Ginny, pointing at one of the flagstones.

All the Lights seemed to come from that flagstone alone.

"I don't think we should go near that, Ron", said Hermione, Ron having stepped towards it.

"C'mon Hermione, it's only lights."

"Only lights! This is magic Ron!", yelled Hermione.

The Lights were intensifying.

"I agree with Hermione on this one mate", said Harry.

Ron scowled.

The Lights became even brighter.

"Uh, guys?", said Ginny hesitantly.

"But it's harmless", argued Ron.

"How do you know?", said Hermione.

"It's pushing up the flagstone!", said Ginny urgently.

Indeed, the Lights were pushing up the flagstone from the floor.

"Oh dear", breathed Hermione.

Ron limped forwards, his leg still recovering from being broken earlier that day and then mended by Madame Pomfrey – it still needed a couple of potions to be back to its old self.

He touched the flagstone.

"It's cool!", he called.

Harry was at his side a second later, "Should we lift it up?"

"Let me help!", said Ginny and was on her knees in front of the flagstone in an instant.

"I don't think this is a good idea", said Hermione, Ron and Harry now also kneeling at a side of the flagstone.

"Give us a hand", grunted Ron as he pulled on the flagstone.

"Ron! You'll hurt yourself!", exclaimed Hermione.

"Give us a hand then!"

Reluctantly she knelt down at Ron's side and began to pull.

The flagstone was loosening.

Fate raised its metaphorical hand to sign Time as the Lights intensified on the Astronomy Tower and the flagstone was lifted.

Time allowed things to happen that had never happened before.

The Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft exploded.

Professor McGonagall was the first to arrive to the scene.

Dumbledore arrived moments later and soon the whole staff and a considerable part of the student population were also there.

The chaos of the scene was still being examined when Madame Pomfrey burst through the crowd and said that her patient and his sibling had disappeared.

A search was held and soon it was uncovered that not only had the two Weasleys disappeared, but Harry Potter and Hermione Granger were nowhere to find as well.

By the next day the search had become frenetic. Every corner in the castle had been searched and the Headmaster had disappeared in the forbidden corridor in the third floor for a while but came back empty-handed.

On their second missing day the search was moved on to the Forbidden Forest.

On the fourth the Ministry of Magic had come to step in on the chaos – it was the Boy-Who-Lived that had disappeared after all.

When a week had gone by without anybody being the wiser on the whereabouts of the four children the greatest experts in magical disturbances went to Hogwarts to see what exactly had happened at the Astronomy Tower – the Aurors were already directing a country-wide search since the fifth day with no positive results.

The greatest experts in the magical world soon concluded that the disappearance of the children had to do with the explosion at the Astronomy Tower.

Multiple theories sprung forwards, one more unlikely the other and all of them erred.

By the second week several conjurers had also arrived and performed a ritual at the rests of the Astronomy Tower.

Time had to put its foot down and Fate had to intervene to prevent a catastrophe from happening.

Six of the present at the ritual had a lightning struck them. Never before had something of the sort happened – they made the cover of the Daily Prophet with that.

Nothing happened during the third week, the great experts had concluded that if the magical distortion was to reverse itself, it'll do so on its own time. So with that, they left.

Nothing happened during the fourth. No shadow, no clue, and no nothing was found of the children – that is, until the beginning of the fifth week.

Because just a few days after the start of term after the Christmas holidays, the Wheel of Destiny turned again and yet another explosion happened at time fortunately on the grounds, sparing the rest of the building.

Hagrid was the first to arrive at the giant crater the grounds just behind the Quidditch field now sported.

He was not only beyond surprised, but also immensely relieved to find four children lying in said crater – all of them more alive than anybody could have expected them to be.

Dumbledore along with the rest of the staff were within minutes at the crater.

Quickly levitating the unconscious children to the infirmary, the thorough examination of the crater begun.

While four children were looked over by Madame Pomfrey, parents, Aurors and the Ministry in general were notified that the children had reappeared.

Everybody was in such a busy state that none noticed a certain boy known by the world Ron Weasley open his eyes and gaze around him in total confusion.

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 **I know the whole flagstone scene was a bit lame, but I couldn't come up with a better idea at the time.**

 **Please Review!**


	3. The Griffin D'or

**The Griffin D'or**

 ***Not using the word Muggle in the Founder's language because I don't think that they'd coined that term back those years, but don't worry, they'll soon learn the new term and use it. For now they'll use the term Mugpeople instead.**

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Godric had never felt more confused in his entire life – and this was saying a lot from a man that had lived over ninety years and fought in many magical battles where confusion was a granted thing. He still remembered the day he'd gotten turned into a cat for a week before his best friend Salazar could revert his state back to normal and he'd never forget – nor stop to laugh at – the time when good Rowena got hit by a particularly strong Confundus Charm and suffered from the consequences for a month. After the whole ordeal he felt it quite safe to state as a fact that a confunded genius was both the most dangerous and entertaining thing at the same time – Rowena was still trying to down live the fact that she'd somehow managed to climb to the topmost rooftop of the school by *Mugpeople means and then proceeded to recite backwards the alchemical uses and properties of all the potions ingredients Salazar possessed.

But back to the matter at hand, Godric perfectly remembered dying in total glory in a magical battle between two mayor magical families. He'd sided with the Lionne family and the enemy had been the Von. The battle had been more than wonderful, seldom did one get the opportunity to participate in such ferocious battles. Godric'd been on the first offensive charge and had managed to get at a good dozen or so wizards with his sword alone before he'd been forced to resort to his wand and rely mostly on it.

It had taken the enemy almost half a day before they'd spotted the gap in the eastern defense of the castle which he in turn tried to defend, that was where he'd finally been hit by over ten enemy arrows. He couldn't have asked for a better battle to die at.

Except that he wasn't dead.

Godric sat up in the bed he found himself prostrated in. Someone had ruined one of the most important things for a soldier – his glorious, heroic death – and had therefore managed to awake his ire.

Godric was still clenching and unclenching his fist in impending rage when he noticed that something wasn't right. He looked down at his clenched fist and felt his stomach go cold.

This wasn't his fist.

He was most certain that this tiny, flimsy, rubbery hand was NOT his.

But yet he could feel, move and touch with it.

"What?", was all his overtaxed brain was able to come up with after several minutes of steadily staring at the hand.

He was almost afraid to check out the state of the rest of his body, but he hadn't won the title of the Griffin D'or by being a coward so he took a deep breath and let his gaze wonder.

He sucked in a breath. He'd been regressed into a child.

How dare somebody regress him, Godric the Griffin D'or, great wizard and warrior known to both Mugpeople and Wizards, into a mere _child_.

Setting his jaw in grim determination he groped for his sword to swear a lifelong vengeance unto the vile monster that had done this to him, but came up empty handed.

Great, now he'd have to search for some strong magical item – he idly wondered whether he should choose a unicorn or the grave of some legendary wizard – to swear vengeance with and move from there on to plan a perfect retribution.

At last he settled on hunting the monster to the end of the world, have an epic sword and wand fight with him and after he'd disarmed him show mercy – he wasn't cruel after all – sparing thus the life of his newfound enemy letting him live in disgrace with himself for the rest of his life.

Content with his mastermind vengeance plan Godric threw the blankets of his bed away and stood up.

"Now where is the exit of this prison?", he wondered aloud.

Though now that he thought about it, this didn't look that much like a prison. In fact, it oddly reminded him of that new section Rowena had just finished with last week – the healing area – Rowena had insisted that their students needed a place to recover that wasn't their dorm rooms – she had this strange notion that the rats that appeared there sometimes weren't good for the sick children. Not that he disagreed with her, no, he'd learned that lesson long ago. He merely thought she was exaggerating a bit.

But of course no matter how many times he told her this – Godric had made sure to bring this information to her attention a least thrice a day – Rowena would just glare at him, roll her eyes, throw her hands in the air, and then stomp away – not necessarily in that order.

It was like the Astronomy Tower all over again. Godric had never quite grasped _why_ they needed a tower to look at the stars. Sure, he knew about reading the stars to tell the future and he knew how to use them to navigate his way around the world, but he hadn't needed a tower to learn those things. For some reason Rowena had glared at him for a whole week after he'd told her that.

So now they had both a blasted Astronomy Tower _and_ a healing area only because Rowena had insisted so – well, Salazar might have sided with her a bit, but that was because other reasons and not because those things were either necessary or useful.

Godric was roused from his thoughts when he opened the door of this not-quite-prison and found himself staring into one of the corridors of Hogwarts.

So he was at Hogwarts!

Had he been found at the battlegrounds turned into a child and brought to Hogwarts by somebody? Or had Rowena went to look for him and found him in this state? Or had he managed to get to Hogwarts on himself and just didn't remember it?

His brain was still swarming with thoughts and questions when a woman appeared behind him.

"Mr. Weasley!", she exclaimed, "What are you doing out of your bed?", she had one of those faces that indicated that she was not to be messed around and that he should probably answer her question as soon as possible before she resorted to drastic measures and gave him something ghastly – like a nutrient enhancing potion for example, those things were from hell itself.

"Eh-", he began, "Um, who are you?"

The woman seemed to tense at his question and asked in tensed tones, "Don't you remember me Mr. Weasley?"

"No", he shook his head and then frowned, half in anger, "And why are you calling me a weasel? I am a man! Not an animal!"

If possible, the woman's posture and expression had only gotten tenser, "Oh dear", she whispered, "Mr. – man – what is the last thing you remember doing?", she asked agitatedly.

Godric thought about it for a moment, "Fighting. I was in a battle wielding my sword and wand", he said matter-of-factly.

The woman – there was a voice in the back of his mind telling him she was a Madame something, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it – raised her eyebrows, turned around and went to a desk at the other side of the room while muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'Gryffindors'. Godric followed after her.

"Young man", she began, "Let me tell you what really happened – you, your sister and your friends disappeared for a month without any of us knowing where you went and have only just reappeared – do you know where you are?"

Godric was looking curiously at the woman – Madame – sister? He didn't have any sister left alive! And what was this nonsense about disappearing for a month? He didn't do that – he would never do that. Not to Rowena and their children, she'd murder him out right before he could even apologize for borrowing her horse again instead of using his own – truth was, her horse was better trained and more intelligent than his own.

So, no, this was all wrong, Salazar was the one that always pulled disappearing stunts like that, not him, not Godric the Griffin D'or.

He pulled himself together and stood straighter, "I don't do disappearing like that Madame", it just felt right to call her so, "I'm an honourable soldier, and we don't do questionable escapades like that – only the normal ones mind you, but disappearing? I'm afraid not Madame."

This had seemed to amuse the Madame as she was now smiling faintly, "Gryffindor indeed", she muttered.

"I'm afraid none of this happened, Mr. Weasley", she said after a moment, "All that was created by your brain in order to cope with the shock you've suffered. Perfectly normal, nothing to be worried about Mr. Weasley, you'll be regaining all your memories and know where you are hopefully soon."

Godric was starting to feel exasperated, hadn't she just acknowledge him as the Griffin D'or? Sure, she'd said it a bit weird, but it had been an acknowledgement nonetheless! And what was all this nonsense about shock?! Godric the Griffin D'or didn't go into shock!

"Listen Madame", he began, barely restraining himself from lashing out, "First of all, I _do_ know where I am – in Hogwarts-"

"That is excellent to hear Mr. Weasley", came a man's voice from behind him.

Godric spun around and saw an old wizened man standing before him. He didn't relax, this man being at Hogwarts could only mean that he was a wizard and wizards at this age could still do their fair share of damage if they so proposed themselves to do so.

"Who are you – sir?", he added hastily, the man looked like those men you just addressed as 'sir'.

"Ah – is his memory giving much trouble Madame Pomfrey?", the man asked the Madame.

So she is a Madame, realized Godric. Now he only had to find out why he had known she is one from beforehand.

"He's coming around. The fact that he knows where he is, is very promising. Aside from that he hasn't said much that made sense."

"Not made sense?", demanded Godric, "I was defending the honour of a castle and its family with my wand and sword!"

"Oh?", said the man and – was that twinkling Godric had just seen in his eyes?

"Um – yes, a battle for life and death", he said it with some uncertainty, the man's twinkling eyes were making him wary, "The enemies were at the eastern defences of the castle – I hope they managed without me, I was one of the only ones left there."

"Fascinating", said the man, his eyes – much to Godric's dismay – were indeed twinkling, "When all this is over Mr. Weasley, I'd like to hear more about your battle – but", he exchanged a look with Madame Pomfrey, "For now I suggest you rest. Your mother will be here shortly and your father will follow her soon after."

"Mother?", said Godric, feeling dazed. He'd never had a mother – sure, he'd had his Auntie Finella that had looked after him in his earliest memories, but a mother?

"This way Mr. Weasley", Madame Pomfrey was guiding him back to his bed.

Godric let his gaze wonder and only now noticed that some of the other beds in the room were occupied. Just beside his bed was there a little girl with ginger hair and at the other side of the room were two other children. One with bushy brown hair and the other with – Godric paused.

These children looked extremely familiar. Their resemblance was beyond uncanny with his best friends.

"Wh-who're those?", he pointed at the children.

"Your sister and friends Mr. Weasley", said Madame Pomfrey patiently, "The ones I told you disappearing with."

The full implications of what she said didn't fully down on him for quite a while.

Godric had been lying on his bed for a good ten minutes or so when he finally stood up and made his way to the bushy haired girl.

What happened then was probably one the most painful things his brain had ever had to endure. As one, two different lives were running before his eyes – none of them were his.

First, and expectantly, he had seen the bushy haired girl turning into a teenager and meeting her on her beautiful horse as she was traveling with that snotty prince wossname, then traveling with him and their best friends across the known world followed by building Hogwarts together, their marriage, having children, teaching, and finally him going to that battle and leaving her and their family behind – his dear, dear Rowena of Raven's Claw.

Then, completely unexpected, came the memories of the girl – not turning into a teenager or anything – but being just that – a girl. Meeting her at the Express and not really liking her at all, then having her sorted into his same house, her being hated by their year-mates followed by her hiding in a bathroom, the Troll attack, becoming friends, her scared face when he'd broken his leg and a couple of ribs, the explosion of light at the Astronomy Tower – the Astronomy Tower!

Godric had to grab the side of Rowena's – or was it Hermione's? – bed to steady himself as a wall broke down somewhere inside his head and his childhood memories came flooding through.

His parents, his siblings, the Burrow, the Express ride, Meeting Harry – or was it Salazar? – getting sorted into Gryffindor – his own House! – hating potions, boring at History, fun at flying, being the second smallest in a family of seven, the reason he hated spiders – he'd wondered about that one for ages – and most important, above all, the realization of him not being an orphan.

Godric – or was he Ron now? He stood still for a full minute internally debating on whether he was one or the other. Summing up the two lives against each other wasn't the best of options since Ron hadn't gotten much time to be Ron whereas Godric had gotten a whole life to be Godric – except that that wasn't true. Ron was Godric. Godric was Ron.

It all really came down to which of the two names he liked best.

Godric decided that Godric sounded a bit better than Ronald. Especially when it came down to interacting with insane, bordering on suicidal nemeses, Godric the Griffin D'or just wouldn't get the same reaction as Ronald Weasley.

Feeling quite better about himself Godric made his way to his bed and thought through what he'd just discovered.

His earliest memory had always been about limping around the peasants and working as much as he could to earn something to eat and being in an awful lot of pain. Things had been bad then and he'd been very near dying that winter so he'd never really wanted – like at all – to know in what kind of condition he'd been in before.

He'd been bitter, and that had made life quite more difficult than it already was – and now that he thought about it, he'd never really thought about _why_ he'd been so upset with life. Now he understood.

Godric also understood why he'd forgotten and placed all his memories behind a thick wall in his mind. Madame Pomfrey had been right, he'd suffered from a sever shock – only not now, but back then – and his brain had fabricated a story – namely, him being an orphan – and locked all his other memories in order to continue with life and not despair at the loss of his family.

Godric looked at his best friends around him and wondered if the same had happened to them, his gaze staying a bit longer on Helga, his dear friend that had died some years ago. Only that she wasn't dead and was actually his sister. Would she be just as confused as he was when he woke up?

About half an hour later, he found out.

Helga – or was it Ginny? He'd have to ask her soon – had started to stir in her sleep for a few minutes and was now blinking her eyes open.

"Helga", he whispered as she lay there, staring at the ceiling in confusion.

She turned slowly to him and furrowed her brows in further confusion.

"It's me-", he hesitated – she wasn't recognizing him, she was the same as him then. As whom should he introduce himself?

He thought about how difficult it was for him to remember about being Ron Weasley and made a decision.

"Ginny", he whispered, "It's me, Ron, remember me?"

There wasn't any spark of recognition in her eyes.

Godric licked his lips and tried to jog her memory again, "We live at the Burrow, remember? It's a narrow house with lots of landings, I think I sleep at the top – I'm not sure though, I don't know where you sleep either, but I know your room is somewhere there", after all the years Godric found his memory failing him about certain details.

"We have gnomes in the garden, mom makes us de-gnome it from time to time. Bill is in Egypt doing-", he paused, "Something. Charlie is mucking about with dragons somewhere. Percy is still here at Hogwarts – sorted into Gryffindor of all places – and was made prefect this year – you must remember that, Fred and George haven't left him alone over it ever since."

There was a flicker of something in her eyes.

"Fred – George?", she asked slowly.

Godric nodded enthusiastically, "The twins, they prank everybody – also in Gryffindor for some reason – we both know they'd do better in Slytherin", he paused again, "Come with me." He took her arm and helped her to sit up and then get out of the bed.

"Where are you taking me?", she asked.

"Oh, just here", he led her to Harry's – or Salazar's – bed and let her stare at him for a moment.

Helga – or Ginny – stood still for a long moment looking at Harry – or Salazar – and then moved on to Hermione – or Rowena.

Finally she turned to face Godric.

"G-Godric?", she ventured and he grinned at her. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed her – it was almost surreal to have her back.

"Oh Godric!", she moved to hug him but stopped herself, "But you're – you're Ron – you're Ron my brother!"

Godric nodded solemnly, "So it seems."

She looked back down at Harry's – or Salazar's – sleeping form, "At least it's not him."

He nodded again, this time more urgently, "Look eh-"

She turned to look at him.

"Look Helga – Ginny – well, Helga – or Ginny – or-"

"Yes?", she mercifully interrupted him.

"Please, its driving me insane, what am I to call you?", he pleaded desperately.

Ginny – or Helga – bit her lip nervously and then there seemed to come a determined gleam across her eyes as she straightened her back. At that moment Godric could clearly see Helga of Hufflepuff in front of him.

"Helga", she said determinedly, "You?"

"Godric", he grinned at her and received a fierce embrace in return.

"When is – "she hesitated for a second," – mom going to arrive?", she asked.

"They said that in a little while."

"Good, we need to plan", said Helga seriously.

Godric looked a little uncertain, "Shouldn't we wait for the other two to wake up? Especially Salazar, the situation looks quite tricky and you know that this will be for him like being down at the dungeons with his snakes, he'll know best what to do."

Helga shook her head, "We don't have time. Last thing I remember from being here is the explosion of light at the Astronomy Tower, do you know what happened after that?"

"Apparently we've been missing a month."

Helga looked stricken, "That is – unexpected – so I guess they want to know where we were?"

Godric nodded in confirmation, "They asked me before I had realized what was going on and I told them about being in a battle at a castle, none of them believed me though."

Helga looked pensive, "So I should probably also babble on about my last memory and let them think we all were heavily confunded or something."

"Sounds about right, though don't mention the word confunded to Rowena, you know how she gets when one of us mentions it."

"Still?", asked Helga with a raised eyebrow.

Before Godric could answer her Madame Pomfrey came into the infirmary followed by Mrs. Weasley and Percy.

"Miss Weasley! What are you doing out of bed?", she narrowed her eyes at Godric, "Same to you Mr. Weasley."

"I – I tried to stop her Madame Pomfrey", said Godric only half-trying to sound convincing, all his attention focusing on the fact that his mother, the mother he'd thought he didn't have, had just come into the room.

"I was telling the boy about the day I had gone to the forests to pick herbs and talk with the badgers, but he wouldn't believe me you see", Helga began to explain, bright eyed and nodding excessively.

They both looked at Rowena's bed as she began to stir. Helga braved on with her story as Godric once again found himself staring at his mother.

"The badgers were dancing see, and there were many squirrels – and birds as well!"

After a minute or so Godric no longer bothered to listen to her and instead run to his mother and let her embrace him.

It was admittedly the best hug he'd had in a very, very long time.

* * *

 **So here the story is kinda really starting now. One of the reviewers asked if I would be showing stuff about their lives as the Founders and I am sorry to tell that I don't think I will. Though there will be many mentions of all the stuff they have been up to as the Founders so there is that...**

 **Please review!**


	4. What Happened?

**SO sorry for the long wait folks. Internet is crappy over here and I'm trying to also plan out a good future for this story.**

 **What Happened?**

* * *

Adapting was one of those words you normally heard from one of those learned people back home waffled about. Godric had never given them a second thought, Rowena and Salazar, however, always listened to learned men. The learned men could be drivelling about how the earth was actually square – or was it triangular now? They wonder mid-speech often-times – but Rowena and Salazar would still listen.

Now it was what apparently they were going through. Godric didn't approve of this adapting, no matter what Rowena said about it being essential part of wossname, he didn't like it.

Quite aside from Godric's newfound hate for the process or state of changing to fit a new environment or different conditions, was the million Galleon question – what the blazes had happened?!

It wasn't one of those moments when you find out that your internet has disconnected itself and you find yourself wondering who tripped over the cable now. No, this was the type of question you ask yourself when you have had a day that against all logic seemed to have been far longer than mere 24 hours. When your day was so long and so bad that you can't help but wonder two things.

First would be the all-time favourite of 'what is this all about? Does it have a purpose?' Or more commonly known as the 'why are we here' question.

The second question is the all-time, less famous question of life of 'why are there never enough cookies in the cookie jar?'

The questions running through the Founders 11 year-old-sized heads were more along the first category.

What had happened? How was this possible? Who had done this? Why had this happened?

These were only a few of the questions that were plaguing the Founders as they sat in the Room of Requirement a week after they'd showed up at the grounds. They'd been cleared to leave the infirmary mere minutes ago and weren't losing their time to solve the mystery – Helga had, after all, got to go back to the Burrow with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley soon and Rowena's parents still needed to be convinced that their daughter wouldn't be disappearing again any time soon, or at all for that matter. So their time was limited.

"I say it was that mad student of Salazar's", began Godric, seated on an oversized scarlet armchair with golden embroidery, "Brilliant student, but utterly mad."

They were all in the Room of Requirement, it had turned into pieces of each of their old offices.

"That's it Godric, blame it on one of my students", sneered Salazar as he stood up from his dark green armchair and began to pace angrily about the room.

"It can't be him", said Rowena unhappily – she was still somewhat angry at Salazar even though they'd discussed that he hadn't run away as originally thought, but had drowned on his way to Britain from Spain when his ship had sunk.

"He died shortly after Godric's death", explained Rowena, shifting nervously in her oversized chair behind her desk, "Besides, he never was bright when it came to temporal magic theory."

Salazar scowled, Godric leaned back in his armchair and looked pensive, Helga was gazing contentedly out the window and Rowena was racking her brains for a plausible answer.

"Let us do a recount then", proposed Godric and as nobody objected he went on, "So on the tragic day that Helga went to the Forbidden Forest to pick some herbs, she'd been assailed by Mugpeople-"

"Muggle, Godric, Muggle", said Rowena, "You have to learn to use the proper words or people will start to catch up there's something not right going on here."

"Not right?", Salazar gave a derisive laugh, "That might very well be the understatement of the millennia, Rowena."

Rowena leered at him and was about to say something when Helga interrupted her.

"Not all the assailants were Muggles you know, some of them carried wands. One of them tried to perform that spell Godric's pupil was inventing – what was its name again? The Expelling charm?"

"Expellamus", said Godric wistfully, "But it wasn't coming out right, I counselled him to change the wording a bit to see if it came out better", he turned to Rowena, "Did he succeed?"

Rowena sighed, "He tried, he kept trying. The most persevering student I've ever seen – but by my time still hadn't managed it. His last wording of the spell being, 'Ezpellazamus'."

Godric grimaced, "He was a good chap", he mumbled.

"Anyways", Helga continued, "He didn't get far with that and instead began using those modern exploding hexes that we were planning to add to the curriculum, and believe me, he would have needed those classes – didn't have control over a single one of them."

The others winced, back at that time accidents for not being able to control one's charms and hexes had been one of the primary reasons of why they wanted to build a school. With time new spells to be taught and added to the curriculum kept popping up everywhere, the ones of the exploding nature especially capturing their attention.

"So what happened after?", asked Salazar quietly.

"They –", Helga swallowed, "They – one of the Muggles got behind my back while I was duelling with the wizards and then – then I got stabbed", she paused a moment to recollect herself, "I got stabbed about six times before I blacked out – how – how did you find my body?"

Salazar purposely looked away and Rowena stared at her lap like it was one of her most interesting tomes.

"Bad", was all Godric could settle for once he thought of the mangled body they'd found hours after she'd been murdered.

Rowena gave a light cough, "After that we continued with all our original plans that the four of us had designed together, with some extras like the Astronomy Tower and the healing block, but aside from that we never changed even the littlest detail from our original plans."

Helga nodded in understanding, "Fortunately Hogwarts was almost completely finished by that time so I don't expect too many surprises – though I like the Astronomy Tower."

"You do?", Rowena perked up, looking for the first time since she's woken up in this time like a true child.

Helga nodded, "It looks wonderful, blends in perfectly with the rest of the castle, one that didn't know wouldn't say that it wasn't part of the original building."

Rowena was beaming by the end of Helga's sentence.

Salazar gave a polite cough to gain everybody's attention, "Afterwards things continued very much the same, the teaching system you'd devised with Rowena stayed, your improvements to the cooking in the kitchens also stayed along with your appointed House Elfs."

"The House Elfs stayed?", asked Helga.

"Well, you were giving them a much better life here than at their old homes so why wouldn't they?", said Rowena and coming from her, acceptance about owning a House Elf was much. She didn't approve as a rule of anybody owning or mistreating other magical creatures and it had taken her a long time to accept Helga bringing House Elfs to Hogwarts as cooks and cleaners.

But with all the promises Helga had made about the lives of the Elfs at Hogwarts – warm beds in the cold months, dry beds in the rainy months, always a roof over their heads, enough food for all of them, free choice of whom to procreate with and the list went on – though she still was upset with the fact that the House Elfs weren't paid, but accepted Helga's explanation that they wouldn't take it.

"The only thing that really changed was Salazar's previously scarce disappearings became quite common", said Godric, pointedly ignoring Salazar's glare.

"And with time Godric joined more and more campaigns and upcoming battles to 'have a bit fun' as he called it", said Rowena, her face a mixture of anger and sadness.

"I am a soldier, dear, it's what we do", said Godric in a placating tone.

Rowena narrowed her eyes at him, "Was that a placating tone I heard to your voice, and don't say no, because I know you did!"

"Um-"

"Was that supposed to be your way to apologize about dying in the battlefield?!", she stood up from her oversized chair and banged her fists on the desk causing Godric to stiffen in his oversized armchair.

"You died! Your children and I had to rush to the battlefield so they don't burn your body amongst all the other hundreds of corpses! We had to beg to be let in!", her voice cracked and she stifled a sob, "I had to go identify your body among the mount of others – you've always spoken about the glorious moment a warrior dies – well", she set her mouth in a thin line and ground out, "There wasn't anything glorious about the way I found you."

Godric had enough decency left to look down in shame.

"I didn't mean for any of that to happen", he said softly, "I know that apologizing won't be of much use, but if to means anything to you I feel awful about it."

"Good", snapped Rowena, but lowered herself back into her oversized chair.

Godric sagged back a little. Yup, he still had it in him to negotiate forgiveness out of Rowena.

"Tell me – about my funeral."

Rowena got out her handkerchief and dabbed her eyes, "If you must know, all our children and grandchildren were there."

Godric nodded, he was happy that his family had been there to see him off – he was also wondering what had happened with them afterwards but knew that they didn't have that much time right now.

"What about you Sal?", asked Helga – she was the only one he'd ever allowed to call him Sal.

"I had a disagreement with Godric – the usual things, Muggles, Mug-borns-"

"Muggle-borns, Salazar", corrected Rowena automatically in a weak voice, still dabbing her eyes after the emotional topic about Godric had been touched.

Godric got up from his armchair and went to her side to comfort her.

"Muggle-borns then – we were having the normal disagreement – should we let more Muggle-borns in, should we let any Muggles know where we're taking their children, the normal things. But then Godric suggests that we make some sort of ambassador, send him to the Muggles and negotiate with them!", he began pacing more angrily, stomping his cheap Muggle shoes – he didn't have any other – against the flagstones harshly.

"Of course I tell him its suicide, that it can't be done, that we'd probably have war! And you know what happens next? Rowena sides with him!", he spins around on his heels, causing a squeaking to come from his rubber soles, "Tell me Rowena, how well did that plan go?"

Rowena, however, was giving him her best glare.

Now, Rowena had two main reputations in Hogwarts. First, that there was no other being that could rival her intelligence, second, that her glare – once in full potency – would not only kill you on the spot, but also pulverize your remains into ash so that nobody would know what exactly happened with you.

The second reputation was a true testament that Rowena, in fact, worked with children.

This, however, didn't mean that Rowena's glares were inoffensive. No, in fact, her glare at Salazar at that moment was so intense that Godric – who normally had the survival instinct of a mayfly – sensed that it might be a better idea to back away for the time being.

It was a testimony of what kind of people Salazar had faced when he didn't as much as flinch away, but instead met Rowena's glare with grandeur.

"We never got as far. We were relatively more occupied trying to establish some type of organization for our people – part of the plans was to train somebody to do it later on, but as you can see I never quite got to see the fruits of all my efforts."

Rowena had said it all in clipped, cold tones while exchanging death glares with Salazar.

Salazar receded in his glare and let Rowena win this round – goodness knows that she needed to feel like she had the reason most of the time – and if he was ever to reconcile with her he better let her think she was winning – for now, that is.

"Fine", he said coldly and turned to Helga, who had been watching the exchange with a certain degree of amusement, "So as you can imagine I left the castle for a few days to clear my mind. While I was at one of the nearby towns the raven of an old friend comes to me with a letter inviting me to Spain to help train Basilisks."

He turned his head a bit to see Rowena's reaction – she had raised her eyebrows in comprehension – and found that Godric had found his way back to her side – he was looking impressed.

"As you all can imagine, to find another person that owns a Basilisk is extremely rare and I couldn't let the opportunity pass. So I boarded the next ship I could find that left for Spain and made my way to the province of Aragon."

"This is all very good and well, but how did you come to drown – _drown_ , of all things Sal?", Salazar might only allow Helga to call him Sal, but that didn't stop any of the other Founders to call him thus as well.

Salazar rolled his eyes at his nickname and continued, "When I'd been some considerable time at Aragon and the Basilisk no longer haunted the nearby villages, I received word that the great warrior, Godric the Griffin D'or, had died", he paused for a moment – that was one of his worse memories. To learn that his best friend had been killed in one of those battles he so loved to stick his nose into – it was devastating.

"I couldn't be sure, of course, we all remember that time when the whole world thought I'd died at the hands – well, paws, Rowena, if you must insist", Rowena gave him an approving nod, "Of that dragon. And when I came back Helga had already buried me two weeks before and then thought I was a ghost."

Godric sniggered and then tried to cover it with a cough, "I assure you, Sal, that none of us will ever forget Helga's screams as she ran away from you and you ran right after shouting, 'But I didn't forget our anniversary, my dear!'"

Godric began laughing outright after that and Rowena was also sniggering now.

Salazar felt the back of his neck go ablaze with embarrassment, that had been one of his most shameful moments and every time he thought he was doing a good job forgetting it Godric brought it up again.

What had happened that day, was that when he'd arrived in their room to greet Helga and wish her a belated happy anniversary – it had been the previous day and, tried as he might he hadn't been able to make it to the castle but until the next day. So when she'd started to scream he'd mistakenly thought it'd something to do with the anniversary so he tried to reassure her he hadn't forgotten it, only that at that moment she began to run. For some reason the only thing he could think of doing next was to run after her – as she ran through the whole castle.

By the time he'd cornered her in the Divination Tower, Godric had had already started a party to celebrate his life – and anniversary, Godric added later on – in the Great Hall and Rowena had already assembled the choir to sing him something nice.

He still claimed his ineptitude on that day was the cause of battling a dragon, barely winning said battle, walking from said dragon's cave to Hogwarts – the Dragon's cave had been in Wales – and then being received with a screaming wife.

"Back to the point", he said loudly over the laughter and sniggering – Helga was blushing furiously, "After telling the Basilisk's owner that I needed to go make sure and promised him that I'd come back, I took the first ship to Britain", he took another pause, "We were almost halfway through when a horrible storm began shaking the ship – it all went downwards after that."

There was a silence for a while.

"And you Rowena?", asked Helga.

"I – I died of old age at the golden age of one hundred and twenty-six", she said haughtily as she sat straighter in her oversized chair.

Godric spluttered at that, "Thirty more years? Now I don't feel like I attained an old age anymore", he crossed his arms and sulked.

"Please Godric, don't sulk", reprimanded Rowena.

"Does any of you remember what happened after the light explosion all those years ago?", asked Salazar.

Helga furrowed her brows, "Well, I was found walking around in the winter with no idea where I was going and then taken in by the family of Hufflepuff – that's about my earliest memory, being adopted by the Lady and Lord of Hufflepuff as one of their daughters."

Rowena looked thoughtful, "Mine is being taken in from the cold streets in the winter by the worker in the Red Knight's Inn to work in return of food and shelter, why?"

"I'm trying to see if there's any connection between the memories – Godric?"

"Cold streets, limping about – now I know why – horrible winter, seeing the knights gallop by and wishing I was one of them", Godric trailed off, gazing dreamily into the past.

"I remember walking on the cold roads and then the Duchess of Slytherin taking me in", he began to pace once again and then stopped near the middle of the room, "It seems that we all appeared there just before the winter, but none of us remember the explosion of light itself?", he asked and they all shook their heads.

"Maybe it was the shock and the drastic change in scenery?", suggested Godric.

Salazar blinked at him, "That – actually makes sense."

"Of course it does", said Rowena, yet her expression betrayed her surprise.

"Is there anything else we need to discuss? My parents will want to take Helga – or rather, Ginny – to the Burrow soon and we won't be able to see her again till the end of term."

"Wait, what about Christmas?", asked Helga, "I remember that in this time they let children go home for the festivities."

"Aren't our parents about to go to – to – to Charlie?", asked Godric.

"You mean that – that – that – place?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, they said something about us still going to visit – I'll be sending you frequent letters 'Ric, promise", said Helga

"Godric should know about his family, what happened with them and who they became, but I don't think sending letters would be the safest way to speak about these things", said Rowena.

"A code then?", suggested Salazar.

"Oh!", Rowena opened one of her desk's drawers and began to rummage through it.

She withdrew a piece of parchment, a quill and ink.

"Sal, come here and help me create a code", she ordered and began scribbling.

Normally, Rowena's bossiness would vex him, but after she'd been angry at him for over a week – or in her case, over thirty years – he could ignore it if it meant they were mending their bridges.

Salazar sighed and set himself to work, "Now, do want cyphers to symbolize common one letters or common three lettered words or something more complex with five lettered cyphers, perhaps a bit of numerology and while we're at it we might as well include astronomical symbols."

Godric sighed as he eased himself back into his oversized armchair. I was going to be a long day.

At least Rowena and Salazar spoke with each other now.

* * *

 **Yes that was the Expelliarmus spell I was revering to up there. So how does this all look thus far?**

 **Longer chapters will be becoming more common soon!**


	5. Resort us!

**Remember how I promised long chapters? Well, from here on they got long!**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Resort us!

Memories had always been a tricky thing for Godric to put in plain words. He had oft found in his classes, at the bar, or with his friends that if he tried to remember certain battles he drew up short at some point and then didn't quite exactly know what had happen afterwards.

Godric's darkest and best kept secret which only his fellow Founders knew was that he barely had any recollection of the day he had received the title of Griffin D'or. It was disconcerting and downright embarrassing.

But this – now – what they were going through was even worse than that. The great Rowena of Raven's Claw, the most intelligent witch of the millennia, the woman who had more books memorized than what was probably healthy – couldn't remember her parents.

He'd seen it on the day her parents had rushed into the infirmary. She wasn't half prepared for the possibility that those two strangers could be her parents. The only thing that had tipped her off that those people were probably family was the fact that Mr. Granger looked a lot like their eldest, Gwaith – except for the fact that Gwaith was a ginger.

Godric had watched her rally all her acting skills in a span of seconds and act like good ol' Hermione. Or at least he thought she acted like Hermione, to be honest not even his own memories were that clear of his previous life – blotchy, in fact, like his old work trousers – but somehow, still clearer than Rowena's – or anybody's for that matter.

Helga had talked far too long about badgers for Godric not to note that she also had very few, if any, recollections about her old life. It was a miracle that she remembered the names of her family.

When Percy and the twins came into the infirmary she'd been forced to do the same as Rowena and pull an act of being Ginny. All those years of being close of Salazar had paid off after all and she was able to look fairly Ginny-like to him.

Salazar – well, since his family hadn't come to see if he was still well and breathing Godric couldn't really say. He'd asked him and Salazar had replied that he remember his old life a bit and then he'd had that expression that monarchs and whole nations had come to fear back home.

Godric had spoken with Rowena about it afterwards. She had shrugged at him and went back to reading one of the day's books, Hogwarts a History or something.

She always did that Godric had moped afterwards. Let him fear for the future of mankind because of Salazar's newest vengeance mastermind plan and what did he get in return? 'Don't-you-worry-he'll-be-fine' or 'This-is-Salazar-we're-talking-about-he-knows-what-he's-doing'. And when he argued that he wasn't worried about Salazar – though in a way he was – but for the rest of humanity, he would get told off for making a fuss and that if Salazar was meddling with something that would endanger humanity they would notice, his wife watched after him after all, thank you very much.

In turn Godric had developed the habit of asking Helga afterwards if Salazar was up to something he – and everybody else – might regret later.

She always reassured him.

But now she was away and instead he had to write her a letter asking what the hell was Salazar plotting now.

He now was waiting for his answer. And while he waited he could always watch the newest mystery unfold itself in front of him.

"You got a what?!", yelled Rowena on their first Christmas morning since they had come back.

"Keep it down Hermione", hissed Salazar and looked around the awful Gryffindor common room in hopes that nobody was paying them attention.

Fortunately – or unfortunately – they were the only ones aside from Fred, George and Percy to be left behind in the whole school and neither Percy, Fred nor George were in the dorm anymore.

"Calm down Sal, not even the twins are around here. Besides, an Invisibility cloak is _not_ something normal and I fail to see how it could have become normal in the last couple of hundred years", said Godric.

"So you'll have me give it in?", ha asked indignantly.

"Salazar Slytherin!", exclaimed Rowena and stood up from her sofa, "Remember when you were a teacher and remind us all about the rules!"

"That was a thousand years ago! I got one as a present today so the regulations must have changed!"

Rowena gave him on of her famous – well, famous amongst her students – stares, crossed her arms and spoke in that condescending tone of hers, "Do you really think so?"

He sagged into the armchair, "No – but it was worth a try. Come on Rowena, I'm not a student, I should be – we all should be in the Headmaster's office finding out what has been happening in our absence!"

"Like there being a Cerberus in one of the rooms you mean?", asked Godric.

Salazar sighed and Rowena looked steadily at the ceiling.

"For the last time, 'Ric", began Salazar, "You're not going anywhere near that trapdoor."

"You're both in Gryffindor with me! You should be agreeing on this!", insisted Godric.

"That was a horrible error committed by that insufferable Hat of yours!", said Rowena scathingly.

"Oi! Sal helped me with the spellwork!"

"And then we all placed a part of ourselves in that Hat, so before you turn this into a war of whose fault this is, let me point out that we all have a hand in this", said Salazar.

"Nevermind the Hat then-"

"We are _not_ going anywhere near that trapdoor Godric", Godric opened his mouth to argue, "And neither are you doing it alone!"

Godric sagged visibly at that, "But dear-"

" _No._ "

"Fine", Godric raised his hands in surrender, "I'm leaving the trapdoor alone."

Rowena now turned her stare at Salazar.

"I guess that you are once again referencing to that speech of yours of last week when you said that for all means and purposes for these people we are students and that we should act as such?", said Salazar, now gazing thoughtfully at the cloak.

"Yes I am", huffed Rowena.

"But Row", began Godric, "A student wouldn't hesitate to keep an Invisibility Cloak for himself."

"But we are still going to one day reveal ourselves and then we will need to have a clean record and none of these shenanigans."

This time it had been Salazar who spoke, leaving Godric to look at him in betrayal and Rowena to nod at him with a proud smile.

"You know", huffed Godric, "That Hat really messed up when it placed you here, what on earth was it thinking when it sorted you into Gryffindor?"

A dark look came over Rowena's features, "I don't know, but we'll soon be finding out."

Salazar stared at the cloak, gave one last wistful sigh and looked up to meet Godric and Rowena's eyes, "I think I might have a plan", he said.

Later that day, when they were having their Flaming Christmas pudding after the dinner Salazar gave a quick glance to the professors and noticed that they were all still busy being merry – it brought back memories of the parties they held back home. Most of the children back then stayed for the holidays, very few ever left the castle before they finished their studies.

Salazar stared at Godric and winked.

Godric gave a loud laugh in response. Rowena looked up from her own owl of pudding and Salazar could see a brief look of misery pass through her eyes.

Grabbing his bowl, Godric began making his way to Fred and George with the excuse of wanting to see their wart kit to see if it was anything like the one he'd got.

Standing up Godric briefly lost his balance for a moment and let his pudding bowl tip backwards – on top of Rowena's head.

"Eww! Ron!", complained Rowena loudly.

"Sorry Hermione! Didn't mean to, honest!", said Godric, distressed.

"My hair!", wailed Rowena as she felt the pudding on her head gingerly with her fingers.

"Let me take you to the bathroom so we can clean you up", Godric took her arm and began leading her out of the Hall, "Be right back Harry!", he called.

Salazar nodded at them, making his best impression of a wide-eyed innocent boy.

They really did a good job, thought Salazar as he went back to eating his pudding and risked another glance at the professors.

Hagrid was laughing heartily at something he'd said previously, Dumbledore was still looking as ridiculous as ever with the flowered bonnet.

"You could have objected to Sal's ludicrous idea", objected a grumbling Rowena as she and Godric walked towards the gargoyles guarding Dumbledore's office.

"Didn't hear you argue about it", said Godric, "Besides, I already cleaned your hair with for you!"

"With water", deadpanned Rowena, looking rather miserable under her soggy hair locks.

"Couldn't have been that bad."

"It was cold."

"Could have been worse."

"Oh shut it you, we're here", said Rowena and stood on her toe tips to look the gargoyle more or less into the eyes.

"Do you recognize me?", she said coldly, if the gargoyle hadn't been made from stone already it would have turned into it now.

"Yes m'Lady", answered the gargoyle rapidly.

"Then open up!"

"Yes m'Lady", said the gargoyle and hurried out of her way.

They hurried up the spiralling staircase and through the office door.

"Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen!", boomed Godric at the portraits on the walls, "I trust you have heard from the other portraits of our return!"

"Yes, yes, news across the whole castle, even the ghosts are talking about it, how you're keeping it from spreading among the living is anyone's guess", said a portly woman with a friendly face's portrait.

"Oh, we have our ways, Madame", said Godric joyously.

"I'm guessing it has to do with her", said an elderly man with a thin beard's portrait, pointing at Rowena who was giving the Sorting Hat a glower that could make an iceberg feel ashamed of its current less than optimal feezingness.

"Dear?", ventured Godric.

"Get me a chair Godric", she said and Godric realized she was angry at the length disparity, the Hat being on one of the top shelves and she being too short to reach it.

"On it, dear", said Godric and soon had her a chair in place.

Rowena carefully took off her shoes to stand on the chair. She was just eye-level – that is to say, that if the Hat had eyes, they would be on the same level as hers – with the hat.

"Hat!", it was an order, one that promised terrible retribution if it wasn't obeyed.

A brim swiftly opened where the Hat's mouth always was.

"Lady Rowena! I knew you would one day remember yourself, if you pardon the expression, I recognized you the moment you placed me on your head!"

"Then why the hell didn't you place me in my house!', hissed Rowena.

"Yeah! And what about Salazar!", added Godric.

"W-well, see-"

"I'm not interested in seeing anything!", Rowena interrupted it.

"But Lady Rowena asked me to Sort her there!", the Hat argued wretchedly.

"And what did we say about what suits the student best?!", she snapped.

"But remember that you always thought that the decision was important! Every child can make a decision to become something else!"

Rowena calmed down a bit – only a bit.

"I remember, but you also should remember that not all eleven year olds can make that kind of decision! Some of them are bound to end in the wrong house if they are all given free reign!"

"But what can I do?", you have never seen a hat more miserable than how the Hat looked at that moment, "Look at Lord Salazar, he came here with a complete prejudice against Slytherin!"

"He did?", said Godric, not being able to help himself.

"Then you should have explained it to him!", said Rowena.

"But that-but that takes time!", argued the Hat.

"Look", said Rowena, what few degrees of temperature had still remained in the room fled, "I want to make this clear."

"Y-y-yes L-Lady Rowena", the hat tried to curl into itself.

"You will A: change us back to our proper houses and you will do it as soon as possible and I don't care what you will have to do to make this possible, but you will do it."

"B: you will analyse each future student deeply and explain why the house they are choosing isn't what is best for them – with total prudence for children of that age!"

"And C: you won't tell anybody about our return or I will use you to fuel the fire in my hearth."

The Hat had been nodding energetically since point A quickly answered after she finished, "Yes Lady Rowena, no problem Lady Rowena, consider it done Lady Rowena!"

"Right", she said in clipped tones and got down the chair, "You can return it to its place, thank you Godric."

"Yes dear."

She put back on her shoes and strode out of the office, Godric hot on her heels.

"Not a word of this", she said when they passed the gargoyle guarding the office.

"Wouldn't dream o' it m'Lady", said the gargoyle earnestly.

Godric waved a cheery good-bye at the gargoyle, greeted some of the portraits, and chatted with the Friar's ghost on their way back to the Hall.

They came back just in time to see Salazar and Dumbledore at the entrance of the Hall speaking.

"Oh, this should be good", whispered Godric conspirationaly into Rowena's ear.

"I agree", she whispered back, "Pity we're not going to witness it."

Before Godric could protest she grabbed his arm and dragged him in the Hall back to their seats, bypassing Dumbledore and giving him a friendly smile.

As they walked away they were just able to hear Dumbledore ask, "Are you sure you want to give it back?"

Rowena smirked to herself and sat down, fully planning on enjoying what was left of the night – though no more puddings for her, thanks.

The feast still went on for another hour in which Salazar came back to the table and smirked at Rowena.

"How's your hair now Hermione?", he asked, smirk still dancing on his lips.

"Oh, fair enough I guess, Ron helped me to get the pudding out", she replied, no trace of her previous dislike for Godric's method for ridding her from the pudding in her hair.

"So I can trust everything will be right now?", asked Salazar with a meaningful gaze.

Rowena smirked, "Of course you can."

Dumbledore sat with a somewhat confused expression for the rest of the feast, Salazar was ready to bet that he had worn that expression until he went to sleep.

"I still think it's a waste though", said Salazar later that night in the Gryffindor common room.

"Come on Sal, don't tell me that the whole affair wasn't in the smallest a bit suspicious to you", said Rowena, curled up comfortingly in front of the fire with a book in her hands.

Salazar looked into the fire in the hearth thoughtfully.

"It did. I noticed it from the first moment don't you be mistaken. I just-", he paused, "I wanted to know what was all behind it."

"For valuing cunningness as much as you do, you sure are curious", said Godric from Rowena's side.

"It was a risk I was willing to take, I am the famous Harry Potter after all. I should know who is after my blood."

Godric looked pensive for a moment, "You think it might have something to do with that Cerberus?"

"Wouldn't be surprised", said Salazar.

"Another reason for us staying away from all that", said Rowena sternly, "If it was meant for Sal then we'll find out sooner rather than later", she looked at Godric pointedly, "I don't want to hear about that Cerberus again and if I find out that you went anywhere near it-"

"Fine. Fine!", Godric gave up, "I'll leave the damn thing alone. I don't have my sword anyways."

Rowena remained carefully silent about the sword, "Good."

"Well, one problem less", said Salazar, making himself comfortable in his armchair.

"Don't you feel like we're forgetting something?", said Godric suddenly.

"Like what?", asked Rowena.

"Dunno – just this feeling I get", said Godric uneasily.

"Can't be that important then", shrugged Rowena.

"I agree with her", said Salazar lazily, curling up in his armchair.

Godric gave a half-hearted nod and settled to make himself comfortable. It couldn't be that important if he wasn't remembering it – right?

Classes had barely re-started for a week when they found out that not remembering something didn't make it automatically unimportant.

"Morning Harry!", greeted one of the older years as he came to sit at Salazar's side at breakfast.

Salazar just stared at the stranger for a moment and forced out a, "Hi", he had no idea who this was.

"So I heard from Madame Pomfrey that you're all good now, ready for any kind of exercises", said the boy enthusiastically.

Salazar glanced at Rowena in a plea for help.

She looked like she was enjoying herself, watching him suffer.

Promising himself that he'll have some words with her later on Salazar turned back to the boy, "I'm not sure if I'm fit for anything very – uh – taxing, I'm quite out of shape."

"That'll be no problem, we'll train you up in no time. After all, it isn't as if you were that fit in the first place."

"Are you sure though? I wouldn't want to be a hindrance to you", said Salazar wondering what the hell the boy was talking about.

The boy looked a bit puzzled at Salazar, "Harry what-"

At that moment Godric's twin brothers came over to greet.

"Hey Oliver. Hey Harry", they said in unison

"Ready to re-join us on the team?", asked one of them.

"We promise we won't be sending any Bludgers at you", said the other one, though with the grin on his face Salazar wasn't sure he believed him.

"Harry's more than ready for the next Quidditch game", Salazar spun around to face Godric when he heard him say those words.

A look of pure horror passed through Salazar's face, but he quickly schooled it.

Quidditch?! He had no recollections of ever playing the game! Hell, he didn't even know how you played it!

Turning back to the boy – Oliver's – face Salazar knew that he was trapped.

"Yeah", he croaked out and quickly cleared his throat, "Never been more ready – just out of shape, so I might not be that good on the first training."

Oliver didn't seem to have heard that last part, "Excellent! We'll be starting next Monday, see you all there!", and he left.

Salazar leaned in the whisper to Godric, "Did you know I was in the Quidditch team?"

"No, but I just remembered that Fred and George are Blunders, Bulgers, Buggers – never mind – they're on the team and if they're here talking about training then you ought to be in the team as well, no?"

Salazar nodded, "What do I do on the team?"

"Haven't the foggiest."

Dumbledore was having a hard day.

Almost all his days had been like this since Christmas.

First, Harry Potter had decided to give his Invisibility Cloak in because he said 'it's against the rules'. Of course Dumbledore knew it was not strictly speaking right to have given him the cloak, but he still felt bad for the boy. Harry had gone through so many hardships that he couldn't help but feel that the boy ought to have something that was owned by his father.

Any eleven-year old would have been beyond themselves with the cloak, exploring the castle, pulling pranks on classmates and looking themselves in the mirror without actually seeing themselves. Just like any child of that age should.

But not Harry Potter.

He'd given it back without a much of a second thought if he was to be any judge – like he wouldn't really miss it if he were without it. Like he could do without it.

Like he had better methods of moving around anyways.

Dumbledore stopped his train of thought.

Perhaps he was overdoing it. Harry was still just a boy after all.

The second thing that had happened was right after the feast when he came back into his office. Not only did he get that impression that his office was somehow much colder that it ought to be but the Sorting Hat was mumbling to itself.

He'd asked if it was alright and got in response a mumbled, 'Yes, yes. Everything fine. Couldn't be better. Everything fine, yes.'

Ever since that day the Hat hadn't seemed to be the same anymore.

All the teachers had noticed, everybody had taken a turn to ask it what was wrong and to everyone it'd answered the same.

Severus had even questioned the portraits, but they all said that nobody except the teachers and the headmaster had entered in the office.

On the day the Hat had finally spilled the beans a third reason had been added for Dumbledore to feel uneasy.

It had just happened the previous day, while he was doing some paperwork.

"Um", said the Hat.

Dumbledore continued scribbling on his parchment.

"Um", said the Hat, louder this time.

Dumbledore continued.

"Excuse me!", huffed the Hat.

Dumbledore looked up, "Ah, everything alright up there?"

"I –", the Hat hesitated, "I am ready to tell you what has been bothering me these last days."

Dumbledore set down his quill and went to stand in front of the Hat, "Yes?", he prompted.

"Um – see, I've been thinking a lot."

"Yes."

"About the Sortings I've done."

"Yes?"

"And what Lady Rowena told me – many years ago of course – the promise she made me promise."

Dumbledore nodded, eager to hear more. The Hat rarely, if ever, talked about the Founders.

"She made me promise to Sort all children where it would be best for them and I – I – I am afraid that I have been slacking off", said the Hat dejectedly.

"What does this mean?", enquired Dumbledore.

Hat drew itself up as much as it could, "I've made errors – I've miss-sorted some of the students", said the Hat miserably.

Dumbledore's eyes widened at the implications of those words, "Are you sure?"

"Couldn't be more sure about this, haven't been more sure in my entire life, nobody has ever been this sure", said the Hat, strangely seeming desperate to convince him about something.

Dumbledore had an inkling on what the Hat was on about.

"So that is why you've been so uneasy? You want to Re-Sort some of the students?"

The Hat nodded miserably.

"You understand that this is quite serious and can't be taken lightly?"

The Hat shuddered a bit, "Oh, believe me, I do, I do."

Dumbledore frowned a bit at the Hat's reaction.

"Are you sure there is no other reason for this to be happening?", he inquired. He had to make sure the Hat wasn't being coerced into something, after all, this was a quite serious issue.

"Lady Rowena would have wanted it to be so", said the Hat stoically.

"If you say so my friend, then I'm afraid that I'll have to gather the teachers and the Board of Governors", said Dumbledore gravely.

"Thank you", said the Hat, suddenly looking relieved, "Just please convince them of the importance of this."

Needless to say neither the teachers nor the Board of Governors had liked the idea in the very least.

"But the Hat insists", Dumbledore had argued. He'd only ever seen the Hat determined when it was composing the song for the next term, but that was nothing compared to the state the Hat was now in.

"We can do without the Hat!", exclaimed Lucius Malfoy, who of all was the most vocal about his displeasure about the whole thing.

"I'm afraid not, Lucius", said Dumbledore calmly.

"I believe in talking things through", said Amos Diggory, trying to be the voice of reason.

"What do you propose then? Talk with the Hat?", sneered Lucius.

"Why not?", said Amos.

None of the board members could really think of a good retort.

"But it's a hat!", said Lucius.

"A sentient Hat created by the Founders that has been Sorting our children for the last thousand years", said Dumbledore with a smile.

"Fine then, but if it starts to sing we'll just get rid of it!", said Lucius.

As it turned out, the Hat didn't sing anything.

"Ahem, there, can everybody hear me?!", asked the Hat loudly once they had placed him at the end of the table at the meeting room.

"We're not deaf, thank you", said William Fort, one of the more younger members of the board.

"That's good, now, where was I? Oh, I remember now", it took a deep breath – which was totally unnecessary since it didn't have lungs – and continued, "Lady Rowena would have wanted this."

There was a silence for a moment.

"And how, pray, would you know what Rowena Ravenclaw would have wanted?", said Urieta Gromble, mother of little Sorieta Gromble, Dumbledore thought, the little girl was a second year and had fortunately not inherited her mother's foul temper.

"I was made by the Four Founders", said the Hat imperiously, "I served under all Four of them till they all – went along."

Dumbledore frowned. Went along? What kind of expression for death was that?

"We still don't even know that happened, you have never told anybody how that came to happen", said Theobard Dodger, Dumbledore remembered him when he was still one of his students.

If the Hat would have had eyes it would have rolled them at the man, he was sure of that.

"I could tell the story of my creation if I must" grumbled the Hat.

Since nobody had ever heard a first account witness of how the Founders were nobody disagreed and everybody leaned forward in interest. Even Lucius seemed interested, his current expression reminded Dumbledore of when he was a first year, walking for the first time into the Great Hall.

The Hat cleared its non-existent throat, "Fine, it begins many, many, many years ago before I was sentient. Lady Rowena and Lady Helga had been in charge of Sorting the children to their respective Houses for a couple of years since they both had the deepest understanding on the human ways. However, they still argued and sometimes it was just clear that they would need to change the Sorting system for something more permanent."

"But that's not where my story starts. When I was still simply a hat I was gifted to Lord Godric on a special occasion from one of his sisters that had come to visit Hogwarts-"

"Wait, Gryffindor had a sister?", asked William Fort.

"Why yes, several. And now, if I may-"

"But why isn't this public knowledge?", asked William.

"How should I know? I'm the Sorting Hat, not a Historian", huffed the Hat, "May I now?"

"Yes please", said Dumbledore.

"Ah, thank you. Now, it came to pass on one long summer night when Lord Godric was doing research for one of his projects he eyed his hat – that's me – which he had taken off and placed on the table and had an idea."

"It took him the rest of the night and half of the morning but he was able to device a spell to not only animate me, but make me sentient – unfortunately I was nowhere near what I am now and acted more like a parrot than anything else."

"It wasn't until Lord Godric showed his fellow Founders his newest creation that anything came to change that fact.

At first Lady Rowena was rather annoyed at Lord Godric and told him to fix his hat. Lady Helga offered to burn me, thinking of me a hat beyond repair. Lord Salazar, however, thought that I might be of some use and took me to his potions lap so that I could keep record of his potions ingredients so he wouldn't run out easily. He also performed extra spells on me so I could have a good memory."

"I spend months in his potions lab keeping record of everything and learning a few new tricks along the way when one day I was taken to his class to help keep record on the ingredients the students were using. It was a class full of seven years, but they were unruly and before Lord Salazar could stop them they had four cauldrons exploding in succession."

Dumbledore risked a glance at Severus. The man was looking wistful, he probably related to what Slytherin had been going through.

"Most of the combined potions fell on me. Whatever it was – Lord Salazar said he had found out afterwards – changed me. I became an extremely intelligent Hat with a fine affinity for music."

"Unfortunately Lord Salazar didn't really value a singing Hat so he gave me to Lady Helga to keep record at the kitchens of the food supply.

Unfortunately she took me away after I confused the names of the kitchen supplies for the names of some of Lord Salazar's potions lab supplies, resulting in a whole group of first years with indigestion. She gave me then to Lady Rowena to keep record of her books.

Unfortunately Lady Rowena, just like Lord Salazar, didn't value a singing Hat so she gave me back to Lord Godric who in turn gave me back to Lord Salazar who in turn, still not valuing a singing Hat, placed me at the entrance of the castle to greet people and keep track of who was coming in or going out."

"It wasn't until a rainy day, when Lady Helga used me to shelter herself from the rain, that it was discovered that I could read the minds of those who put me on.

She took me to Lady Rowena and I was tried on the heads of many children, but I still wasn't what I am now and didn't exactly understand how I should Sort children.

So the Four Founders came together one night and made the important decision to place a part of themselves in me so I could Sort the children fairly."

They all stared at the Hat, wondering if it had finished.

Lucius cleared his throat to gain some attention, "So, if you were really there, you might as well clear the ago-long mystery about how the Founders died?"

"Is it true that Gryffindor died by battling an army of Trolls?", asked Fort, Dumbledore remembered him to have been a Gryffindor.

Suddenly everybody was asking questions.

"Is it true that Slytherin was killed by Gryffindor?

"Is it true that Slytherin killed Gryffindor?"

"Are the rumours true that Hufflepuff died in a freak accident in the kitchens?"

"Is it true that Ravenclaw died because she used her diadem too much?"

"How exactly did Slytherin die?"

"What happened with Gryffindor?"

"Are the rumours right about-"

"Enough!", shouted Dumbledore over the din.

They all calmed down a bit and glanced anxiously at the Hat.

The Hat squirmed under their scrutiny, "Lady Rowena never liked people to know about her personal doings, she only ever let the closest family members and friends to the funerals. She wouldn't approve of people talking about her behind her back", said the Hat nervously.

"But this happened ages ago! It's of supreme importance to our wizarding heritage!", insisted Theobard Dodger.

"Lady Rowena wouldn't approve", said the Hat fearfully, trembling on the spot and muttering, "Wouldn't approve, wouldn't approve, no, not at all."

The way it talked about Ravenclaw one would almost think she was still alive and ready to walk through that door and hex it if it as much as thought of doing something she wouldn't have approved. Perhaps it did indeed think she was still around?

It made Dumbledore wonder if the Hat was perhaps going senile. It certainly would explain why it had slipped up with the Sorting in the first place.

The Board of Governors was staring at the Hat, unsure on what to do.

"Shall we hold the Re-Sorting then?", asked Dumbledore, in an effort to get them all back on the original topic.

"What? No!", Lucius was the first to answer.

"Lady Rowena ordered me to always take care of what I did when I Sorted, I have slipped up and it needs to be set right", said the Hat gravely.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, we can't seriously be considering to get half the school Re-Sorted!", exclaimed Lucius and Dumbledore had to admit that he kind of agreed.

"What? Half the school? Goodness no!", exclaimed the Hat, "Only seven children."

That had them all staring at the Hat for a long time.

"Let me get this clear", said Minerva, "You have been wailing since Christmas and speaking about Ravenclaw like she was alive and ready to strike you with a hex at the moment's notice-"

The Hat shuddered it terror. Dumbledore wondered if the Hat had ever realized that the Founders were dead. Maybe it couldn't understand the concept of death? They had all just taken his understanding as granted while nobody had stopped to think what a sentient Hat understood about death. Went Along indeed, someone was going to have to question the Hat – and that wasn't going to be him.

Minerva went on, "Giving us all the impression that you have made a terrible mess with half the school's population when in reality it was only seven children? Have I understood this right?"

The Hat hesitated a moment, "Well-"

"Hmm?", inquired Minerva and the Hat seemed to be trying to curl into itself.

"I'm sorry I gave you that impression – but seven children are already terrible for me! There has never been a Re-Sorting!"

It was all too true and Dumbledore didn't even want to begin to imagine what the wizarding world in general's reaction was going to be to this.

"In this case I don't see much of a problem", said Tadues Wolfe, President of the Board of Governors.

Lucius Malfoy still didn't seem too happy about it but eventually even he agreed to the Re-Sorting.

The next morning Dumbledore was to announce the Re-Sorting and let the Hat call the names. It'd refused to tell anybody who it was going to Re-Sort. Not even Minerva's stare could get it to spill that secret. It was as if the Hat once again feared Ravenclaw – or Lady Rowena, as it called her – was going to charge through the door and hex him. Apparently Ravenclaw had been even fiercer than Minerva was now. Dumbledore considered that as a huge accomplishment.

Watching the owls sweep into the Great Hall the next morning Dumbledore watched Harry and his friends chat happily. He was glad that the boy was getting along with his friends, even after all that had happened.

He watched as the young Ron got a letter – probably from his family – and began to read it with a frown on his face.

Deciding that now was better than later Dumbledore stood up and tapped the side of his goblet with his porridge spoon.

"If I could have your attention", he said loudly and the whole Hall fell silent.

He signalled to Minerva and she quickly left the retrieve the Sorting Hat and its stool.

"A few days ago the Sorting Hat spoke with me about the most unusual of petitions. It was so outlandish that I would probably have dismissed it if the Hat hadn't insisted that it was its duty that the Founders had left him.

You see, the Hat felt that it had done a big mistake Sorting seven of the students."

There was a collective gasp and whispering broke out across the Hall.

"The Hat petitioned for a Re-Sorting. As some of you know this has never been allowed in the past. The Hogwarts Board of Governors intervened and spoke with the Sorting Hat. After arduous deliberating and taking into consideration the important task the Founders left the Sorting Hat, the petition was accepted."

The muttering and whispers grew in volume and some of the children were trembling in fear, obviously frightened that they would be the ones Re-Sorted.

Minerva came and settled the stool on its place and placed the Hat on top of it.

Many eyes were staring at it frightened now.

"Since the Sorting Hat wouldn't tell us the names of those seven students it will be calling out the names itself."

A child had started to cry somewhere in the background. Dumbledore really hoped that all this turned out for the best.

"Sorting Hat, you may begin", said Dumbledore solemnly and sat down, Minerva already back at her seat as well.

"Thank you Headmaster", said the Hat.

"The first to be Re-Sorted is – ANDORA, PHILIP!"

A gangly Slytherin fourth year boy got up awkwardly from his table and got pushed along by his fellow house-mates.

Dumbledore recognized him as a member of a family that had been in Slytherin for generations. He wondered what would happen.

Philip cautiously took the Hat and sat down on the stool. He gingerly placed the Hat on his head.

The whole school seemed to lean forward to see what was going to happen.

Nothing happened.

Five minutes later and somebody from the Hufflepuff table coughed.

Five minutes after that three Ravenclaws had gotten out their books to read.

Five minutes after that most of the children had taken to finish their breakfast.

Six minutes and a half later the Hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Minerva almost fell off her chair from the surprise but most of her House didn't have that level of self-control and couldn't stop themselves and fell to the floor.

Philip awkwardly made his way to his new House were everybody was gawping at him.

"FINN, ELEAMORA!"

A ginger third year Hufflepuff girl got up slowly, glanced at her friends who nodded encouragingly at her. Eleamora skittered forwards, sat on the stool and placed the Hat on.

Again nothing happened immediately.

Ten minutes later there was a small explosion from the Gryffindor table as they were playing Exploding Snap to keep boredom at bay.

Ten minutes after that and the child that had cried a while ago started to cry again.

Seven minutes later the child had stopped to cry and the Hat shouted, "RAVENCLAW!"

Filius woke up with a start, "What? What?"

"You got a new member for your House Filius", drawled Severus.

"I do? Wonderful!", Filius clapped his hands enthusiastically.

Eleamora was settled on her new House table.

"Next is GANT, PETER!"

Peter, another fourth year, this time from Gryffindor, got up and shouted, "I belong to Gryffindor!"

"Put the Hat on Mr. Gant!", exclaimed Minerva.

"But I-"

"Mr. Gant!"

"Oh, fine."

The boy walked miserably to the stool and put the Hat on.

Fifteen minutes later there came the first explosion from the Ravenclaw table, they were the last House to join in on the Exploding Snap craze that had swept the Hall.

Three minutes later Hat shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Pomona clapped loudly and gave her house a pointed look. A few began clapping as well to welcome Peter.

"GRANGER, HERMIONE!", shouted the Hat.

Minerva looked horrified. Dumbledore knew how much she appreciated the girl in her house.

Hermione got quickly up and hurried to the stool, no doubt seeing this as another academic experience, if his understanding of Hermione's mind-set was accurate.

Hermione placed the Hat on. Severus sighed and went back to reading a book he had acquired from somewhere.

Five minutes later somebody had turned on a radio that was playing Celestina Warbeck's newest single. He ordered the Heads of Houses to get rid of the thing lest it distracted the Hat and they ended up staying longer than necessary.

Ten minutes later there was a collective humming coming from the far end of the Gryffindor table. They were humming Celestina's song.

Five minutes later the humming had expanded as far as the Slytherin table. Albeit not many were humming there, but they still were. Severus seemed too immersed in his book to even notice.

Five minutes later Hagrid's snores were coming from the end of their table. Dumbledore seemed to be the only one without something to keep himself occupied.

Five minutes later Dumbledore realized that Hermione had now been sitting with the Hat on for half an hour and Harry and Ron had not taken their gaze off her for more than a few minutes.

Four minutes and a half later a weary sounding Hat shouted, "RAVENCLAW!"

Filius clapped happily and a few from the Ravenclaw table clapped along.

Minerva looked rather put out by the whole thing.

"JOSIER, TAMARA!"

A third year Hufflepuff girl, friend of Eleamora, got up and walked to the stool.

Fifteen minutes after she had placed on the Hat Dumbledore was offering Severus a lemon sherbet when the Hat suddenly shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"

Severus looked like he was having a mini-meltdown. To have a Hufflepuff in Slytherin was certainly not what he had been expecting.

As if that hadn't been enough shock the Hat just waited for Tamara to be settled before he shouted, "POTTER, HARRY!"

Dumbledore had to admit that he himself felt like he was about to have a mini-stroke.

Everybody watched in rapt attention as Harry walked up to the stool and placed on the Hat.

Whispering broke out in the Hall once again.

Five minutes later the whispering had mostly died down and Dumbledore had stopped wringing his hands in nervousness.

Ten minutes later Dumbledore became engrossed in the juggling a sixth year Hufflepuff was performing with his text books. He wondered if Pomona should perhaps stop him.

Five minutes later the juggling had stopped after the boy accidentally ended up hitting two of his friends with the text books.

Five minutes later and Filius and Sinistra were making bets on whether Harry would sit longer than Hermione or not. Vector was looking like he wanted to join in.

Five minutes later Quirrus dropped his book for the twenty-seventh time in the last hour. Dumbledore wondered if he should set Severus to make the poor man a calming potion. Perhaps one with garlic so the man would have no excuse to use about vampires? Harry was now there half an hour.

The atmosphere was getting tense with all the teachers that had taken part of the bet. Filius, who had an excellent fob watch, was timing the whole thing.

Two minutes later half of the teachers were convinced that this was going to take longer than Hermione's Sorting and were already counting themselves as winners.

Suddenly the Hat shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"

No money changed hands.

In fact, nobody said a thing.

Dumbledore was sure that if he was to look at his side he'd see Severus being as horrified as he'd ever been.

Deciding that that was one sight he would probably never see again he tore his gaze from Harry as he walked to the Slytherin table and glanced at Severus.

The man looked broken. He wished he could pat him on the shoulder.

"TAILOR, JESSICA!", shouted the Hat, but nobody except Jessica paid it any attention.

* * *

 **Hope you like the humor I tried to put into the chapter, there will be more of it in the future, which I'll give my best effort to make worth while.**

 **Please review!**


	6. The End of a Long Year

**So I'm back! And we're finally finishing the first year! *throws confetti***

 **I wish I could be advancing this fast with my other story :x**

 **Anyways, hope you enjoy!**

* * *

After the whole House-changing debacle came the whole Quidditch teams debacle. Apparently Salazar wasn't the only Re-Sorted student part of a team.

Eleamora, in fact, happened to be Chaser in of the Hufflepuff team.

Chaser. Now that was one of many new words Godric had learned once Rowena, Salazar and he sat down in the library to read Quidditch Throughout the Ages. It had really helped them all understand the 'evolution of a life threatening sport' as Rowena called it. She didn't approve that much of the sport.

Godric wasn't sure if all their reading was going to be set to use now. Though perhaps it would.

Oliver Wood had taken to chaining himself to one of the scoring posts in the pitch and was refusing to leave it till somebody cleared all the mayhem.

The captain of the Hufflepuff team had shortly followed.

Surprisingly enough the Ravenclaw and Slytherin captains had also gone to join them, though they hadn't chained themselves. They were more there because they agreed with the cause.

Dumbledore had gone to talk to them that morning. Oliver had been chained to the post for two days after all.

But as if angry Quidditch teams weren't enough the Gobstones club was also protesting because Peter Gant had been elected Secretary of Treasury because it was the turn of a Gryffindor to be Secretary of Treasury and now he wasn't a Gryffindor anymore. The thing was that when he'd been elected he was a Gryffindor, but only now he wasn't anymore and what were they supposed to do now because they had rules to follow and they needed a Gryffindor Secretary of Treasury and now they didn't have one anymore, but they couldn't just kick out Peter like that and it all frankly just drove circles in Godric's mind.

The good thing was that at least they didn't have scoring posts to chain themselves to. The bad thing was that since they didn't have a scoring post they had taken to march in circles in the Great Hall.

It didn't even sound threatening.

What nobody had realized was that the Gobstones club was HUGE. It was now so difficult to get into the Great Hall without being jostled by an angry member of the Gobstones club that Godric had taken to eat in the kitchens. Some people had seen him and now half of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, a quarter of Ravenclaw and some Slytherins ate there three times a day.

With the chaos they were creating down there Godric would have been expecting a protest to break out if the workers in the kitchen weren't house-elf who would sooner accept clothes than protest.

Another problem came with the seven students that had been changed from House. Not even Rowena and Salazar were having it easy.

Though it was only too understandable. They were all new in Houses that already knew them, but didn't really want them there.

Rowena – from the rumours he'd heard, since he couldn't get into the Ravenclaw Tower – had taken her place in the armchair of their private library and wasn't letting anybody budge her.

It was starting to concern him.

Ever since they'd gotten back she'd promised herself to get back on date with everything and therefore had buried herself in books. Now she was in her House, for book lovers and full of book lovers – then again nobody, even in her own House, seemed to love books as much as she did.

He'd gone to fetch her at her Tower the previous day so they could attend the school's newest entertainment – the protesting Quidditch captains – and watch Oliver Wood's fan girls swoon over him.

To get to her he'd had to ask one of her new house-mates who reported him that Rowena had collected enough books to build herself a small fort if she so wished to. He'd had to bribe her with the promise that she could read while they attended the entertainment. Watching her interaction with her house-mates Godric had realized that perhaps everything was not as wonderful as he would have thought they were for her.

It was strange, know-it-alls not liking other know-it-alls. It didn't make much sense to him. Besides, why fight over the rights of a library? There was a huge one just a couple of landings down!

Salazar, on the other hand, took to Slytherin like a fish to water. He'd entered the House like a soldier would enter enemy-territory and had reported that his new room-mate – a boy called Malfoy, Godric wondered if he was related to a Malfoy he'd known in his time – had insulted him in ways that were apparently quite imaginative for an eleven year old. According to Salazar he'd then proceeded to congratulate him on his efforts and corrected him on a few things – like citing his father and so on – which had in turn baffled the boy so much that he was now leaving him mainly alone.

"But he'll come back for more", said Salazar as they made their way down to the kitchens.

"You don't sound upset", commented Rowena, for once looking up from her book.

"Why should I? He is just a little boy, children that age can't put much feeling behind anything, sure they can say nasty things but aside from that he's pretty harmless."

"And what about his two flanks?", asked Godric.

"Now that is something I still need to sort out, no self -respecting Slytherin goes around with body guards. It's denigrating", said Salazar with a scowl, "Perhaps I should teach him a lesson."

"Please do, he keeps insulting me and I really don't want to go around hurting children", said Godric.

"Not that kind of lesson Godric, the kind where I show him how to use what he has in the right way. Right now he's only a snooty spoiled brat and a coward. He has potential, but if nobody intervenes he will stay like he is and develop into a full time bully. I don't put up with bullies in my House", hissed Salazar.

"He ought to be locked up somewhere perhaps with the Cerberus", growled Godric.

"Whatever for?", asked Salazar with a frown.

"It's just – just – the memories", Godric finished lamely.

"Ric, don't let things that happened more than eighty years ago for you affect you this much", said Rowena.

They stopped walking. They were in front of the open portrait that led to the kitchens. Nobody bothered to close it anymore. Half the school seemed to be in there already.

"Do you reckon those of the Gobstones Club will ever stop protesting? Their argument seems hopelessly circular."

"I'm more worried about the Quidditch thing", said Salazar eyeing warily the milling kitchens. Every now and then there would be a squawk from an elf being tripped over.

"But you read the book", said Rowena.

"I did, but that doesn't help me that much."

"You still don't know your position?"

"I was going to ask Oliver but when I got to him he was already chained."

"Well, we know you're not the Keeper or one of the Bludgers at least", comforted Godric.

"Hmm", Salazar didn't look much comforted.

"Come, let's go eat something and then we can check if Oliver is still out there, chained", said Rowena and led them into the chaos that was the kitchens.

Godric was just happy Helga wasn't there to see the disaster. She had put much work into making the kitchen a comfortable working place.

As it turned out Dumbledore didn't have bad negotiation skills and made sure that there wasn't to be another protest from the Quidditch captains.

The agreement consisted that the two newly house-changed Quidditch players could play for their old Houses this year, but next year they couldn't play for anybody. Only the year after that would any of the house-changed students be allowed to play Quidditch for their new Houses. It was all done to prevent the newly house-changed player or future players wouldn't favour their old House instead of their new one.

Everybody was happy with the new agreement and Oliver was already making plans so that Salazar could win the House Cup this year in case he didn't get another good player soon. Because it seemed that no one was at good as Salazar in that position but Salazar himself.

Salazar, however, was distraught over the whole deal.

"How can they just agree to things like this without consulting the players involved first?", he said as they watched Oliver fumble through his pockets for the key of the chains.

"Dunno, just wish Dumbledore would do the same with those of the Gobstones Club, if I once more end up spilling pumpkin juice on my robes because somebody pushed me because there wasn't enough space because the kitchens are too full, I'll start screaming at somebody."

"Don't", advised Rowena.

"This is the third time since the Gobstnes Club started to protest three days ago 'Row, what did you expect?", grumbled Godric.

"When are we having the next match?", wondered Salazar.

"Search me."

The protests of the Gobstones Club continued at the Great Hall for another three days, Godric spilled five more goblets of pumpkin juice on his robes in that time.

Dumbledore at the end simply ordered them to protest somewhere else since none of his proposals were accepted.

They moved to the grounds and drove the ground keeper crazy for another week before Peter simply resigned to his position and let another Gryffindor take his place.

Still, there was a faction that didn't agree with what had happened and they continued to protest for the rest of the school year.

Protest, for the lack of a better word is used since technically that was what they did. They did indeed have banners in their corner of the Great Hall and boards filled with catchy slogans to support the cause, but that was all that made them protestors. They had gone back to normal life except that they now hanged out all the time on their corner in the Great Hall. Every now and then, if one of them felt like it, they would start singing Celestina Warbeck's newest single in sign of protest. Nobody knew how this worked.

With the uproar of everything that had happened Salazar never got much of any sort of training. Sure Oliver called the team to the Quidditch field often but he spend hours trying to find out if Salazar's loyalty was still with them and then he would draw on his chalkboard and rant on about strategy. Salazar was surprised he didn't go brain dead after all the boring speeches Oliver gave.

One, solely one interesting thing had happened in all his time in the locker rooms listening to Oliver. It seemed that Snape was going to coach their next match.

Salazar didn't understand why this got such a bad reaction from the team members. The Potions Professor was fairly harmless, especially since the Re-Sorting.

The man looked like death warmed over. He was pale, there were dark circles under his eyes and he seemed to be in an eternal frown.

It also seemed that Time had just shrugged when it came to his hair and decided to skip ahead on work there since he would get white anyways, so why wait? His hair was just greying too fast for Salazar not to notice it. He wondered why the man also looked like he never slept anymore.

Maybe it was about him and Tamara. The girl was a natural Slytherin, but also fiercely loyal.

She had already made herself part of the group of girls her age and was now dragging them to her old Hufflepuff friends. Seeing Hufflepuff and Slytherins socialize was a novelty in this time apparently.

Snape had also looked a bit worse for wear after it started to get common to see the group of Hufflepuff and Slytherin girl walk the corridors together.

It also apparently was unusually strange that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, could fit right in Slytherin. Salazar had already made himself half-friends – to be full friends of someone in Slytherin was extremely difficult – with Zabini, Nott and Bulstrode. He'd convinced them of his Slytheriness by teaching them how to be tactful.

It wasn't that he'd just stood there and told them what to do, he'd really switched into his teacher mode and had them practicing in front of him until he deemed them more or less acceptable. It was a bad habit of his, switching into his teacher mode sometimes. Even the older years were talking about it.

Snape must also have heard about it since nowadays when he looked at Salazar his frown deepened considerably.

Salazar had also seen McGonagall trying to comfort him once.

This, apparently, was also not normal.

He deeply wished he could explore all the deep significance of everything that was happening, but the fact that he was walking into a Quidditch match without knowing what the blazes he was supposed to do there was working on his nerves. And Salazar of Slytherin had nerves of steel. He'd gone through horrors in his time, seen people murdered, murdered them himself, seen nations fall, made them fall himself, been tortured, hurt in battle and slapped by Helga of Hufflepuff. Not many people could say that and not show a scar for it, she had a heavy hand and almost always used mail gloves.

The thought of Helga made his heart clench in longing. He'd lived without her for years after she'd died and now she was alive and he couldn't be at her side.

He'd already owled her a couple of time and that had helped a lot. He wasn't sure what he would have done if he hadn't been able to do that and he was glad to have an owl in the first place, even if he didn't know the creature's name.

Through her owls he'd learned about dragons in Romania, her parents, her siblings, the Burrow, and that there definitely was something she wanted to talk about with him but was waiting till they could do it in person.

Hoping that it wasn't another slap for who knows why was all he could do right now.

His attention was shifted back to the here and now when Snape ordered the captains of the two teams to shake their hands.

It was a nice enough day. Fairly cloudless, warm enough and the Hufflepuffs were looking content – except when they set eyes on Snape, of course.

Salazar really needed to look in on that.

"Harry, try to catch that Snitch as soon as possible, will ya?", said Oliver, "Before Snape can bias the game in Hufflepuff's favour."

Salazar blinked at him.

Snape signalled and the game had suddenly begun.

Salazar jumped up onto his broom and raced into the air as fast as he could.

He was the Seeker?

It took a whole moment to recalibrate his brain.

He was the Seeker! The smallest member of the team! Normally the most targeted member as well! The one idiot that could very well be wearing a notice saying 'hit me and your probabilities of winning the game will improve'!

How? How?! How had he ever ended up being part of a stupid sport, never mind the stupid position he currently held?

He felt like an idiot.

While he was feeling miserable for himself, the game was still going on around him.

He abruptly found himself noticing his surroundings.

Lee Jordan was commenting on every move that happened in the game. Oliver had just scored for Gryffindor.

Snape was scanning the teacher's stall like a hawk.

The other Seeker was flying in circles.

Salazar spotted Godric and Rowena in the crowd along with Neville, his ex-room-mate and was that Draco Malfoy walking towards them?

He groaned when he saw Draco trying to harass Godric. What was Malfoy? A three year old? Had he never heard of the words tact or discretion?

Clearly not.

Rowena gave Draco a disinterested look and focused back on the game. She spotted him and waved.

Deciding that perhaps catching the Snitch soon was in his better interest, Salazar set himself to watch out for the little golden thing.

How little was the thing anyways?

Suddenly something bright passed right in front of him. He was ready to bet that that was the Snitch.

Racing after the little bugger Salazar felt for the first time exhilaration when flying. So this was why he'd join the sport?

Doing a barrel run turn to avoid one of the Bludgers Salazar extended his arm and willed the broom to go faster. Wasn't this supposed to be some wonderful broom? Shouldn't he be going faster?

He was still mentally complaining about the broom when he felt his hand enclose the fluttering Snitch.

The crowd went mad.

Salazar had no idea what to do now so he just sat there, floating till the Weasley twins grabbed him and took him back to the ground to celebrate.

The celebration was nice, Salazar had to admit. He'd never gotten a party for doing something trivial like a sport. Came to think about it the only other time he'd been thrown a party for something positive was that time when he'd come back from the dead.

And the parties they normally threw when he killed or dethroned or disappeared somebody had been fairly dull in comparison to the type of parties Godric always threw.

There also was always something that at the end spoiled a bit the party. Like when he'd come back from the dead it was his eldest marching into the Great Hall, thinking him to be an impostor. It took over an hour to convince him Salazar was the real thing, by which time he'd already destroyed three tables and nine chairs. Godric had applauded him for his spellwork later on.

This time, in was something less dramatic, but still moderately upsetting.

"So, how has Neville been doing since Madame Pomfrey released him?", Salazar asked Godric one day as they all sat in the library, preparing themselves for their upcoming exams. Rowena had made up a schedule and color-coded her notes to make the most of her time. They, unlike the rest of the Hogwarts population, weren't studying to pass. They were preparing themselves to get an optimal, normal, perhaps a bit above average score on their exams so as to not pass up as sudden geniuses.

It was a low blow to Rowena when she realized they couldn't very well walk through her exams with flying colours without breaking a sweat. People would suspect and when people started to suspect they would start to get problems.

And with problems came hindrances, limitations, setbacks and goodness knew what else.

So Rowena had set herself to perfect the art of 'getting just above average and not over the top scores' down to a science. Salazar had to admit that she was doing a pretty good job at it.

"He's fine, black eye's almost gone. Have you done something about Malfoy yet?", asked Godric, eager to hear about Malfoy suffering.

"Scolded him, didn't seem to have an effect. I'm working on another method to discipline him", said Salazar, he was almost excited with what he was planning for Malfoy.

Godric looked eager to know, "What is it?"

"Oh, just a little setup", smirked Salazar.

"Sal', setups are tricky in the best circumstances, Hogwarts right now isn't what I'd call a fail-safe ground", said Rowena, emerging from a thick tome on ethics.

"Row', Row', Row', remember I am the founder of the House of cunningness? Where trickery and scheming are appreciated above all?", said Salazar condescendingly.

Rowena rolled her eyes and went back to her tome, "Whatever you say Sal'."

Godric eyed Rowena with concern, "You think she's okay?", he asked in a whisper, "She's been doing nothing but reading for weeks!"

"She's Rowena, she can handle reading better than anybody."

"But I'm having to remind her of eating! It hasn't been this bad since before we married!", worried Godric.

"I can hear you, you know", said Rowena from behind her tome.

"Sorry dear", said Godric miserably.

Salazar shook his head and saw the ground keeper come out of some of the aisles, carrying books in his arms. Huh, thought Salazar, wouldn't have pegged him as the reading sort.

The ground keeper noticed him and gave him a nervous wave.

Salazar waved back. He'd noticed from his Christmas present that the ground keeper and he seemingly got along well.

"Wonder what he took out", whispered Godric at his side as they watched the ground keeper walk away hastily.

"From his attitude I'd say that it's something he's trying to keep secret. Will probably end up blowing in his face, the poor fool."

"Should we go check?"

"No", said both Salazar and Rowena at the same time.

"You guys are no fun", griped Godric.

The days after that flew by.

Rowena buried herself deeper into her books and Godric became more concerned over her. Oliver Wood had them practicing for their next match and Salazar felt like he was getting the hang of the game. It almost was a pity he'd decided to never play the sport again – almost.

Along with his studies and Quidditch practices he'd finally managed to cow Draco Malfoy and beat it into his diminutive brain what the words tact and discretion meant.

He'd begun with using Godric in his little setup – without telling him, something Godric hadn't appreciated that much afterwards – by taking one of his books and placing a note inside.

It basically said the Godric would be present far past curfew in the Astronomy Tower with Rowena. Salazar had then left the book lying near Malfoy's reach and the little twit had fallen for it. For that alone he deserved what had happened afterwards.

Malfoy had gone tattletaling to McGonagall and dragged her up to an empty Astronomy Tower.

The results of that were evident the next morning when the Slytherin point scale had lost 70 points overnight.

Godric had then come marching towards him and dragged him to an empty classroom to explain. Apparently he'd been cornered by McGonagall and Snape that morning and asked what the note in his book meant.

Godric, in a rare moment of keeping his head, had lied and told them that it was a prank some of the Ravenclaws were playing on him and Rowena – that he and Rowena had something going on between them. So he'd told them that the Ravenclaws had taken to write them silly notes like that and that no, he had no idea who was behind the notes. Also, no, he had nothing to do with Malfoy lurking around at late hours.

His friend didn't like much of using him in the setup, but at least seemed happy that Malfoy was going to get detention.

And what a detention it turned out to be. To go dead unicorn scouting around the Forbidden Forest was something Salazar wouldn't have assigned a first year but he was glad it had done the job. Snape also had shouted at Malfoy in front of the whole House in their common room, something that made Salazar deeply approve of the man, even if he looked like a bat.

Nothing of interest happened for a week afterwards until the ground keeper's – he'd learned his name to be Hagrid – hut caught fire. The teachers were all there soon enough to stop the fire. Whenever anybody asked later what had happened to cause the fire the teachers would grimace and say, 'nothing, nothing at all, just a little accident with a candle'.

Nobody really believed them.

A few days after they finished their exams and just before their next Quidditch match, Professor Quirrell was evacuated from the lower regions of the castle in a stretcher. It appeared that the poor sod had actually tried to duel Dumbledore, who even if he wore a flowered bonnet on Christmas, was still a very powerful wizard and an excellent duellist.

A couple of sympathetic students decided to send him flowers to St. Mungos, the new magical hospital Salazar had never before heard of. He gave them a few Knuts for their fund to show his goodwill.

The Quidditch match that followed was pretty much like the last one. The crowd cheered the whole time. Rowena kept reading her newest book. Godric dragged Neville along and tried to make him give a manly battle cry. It seemed that Godric had taken the boy under his care. Salazar wondered if the poor boy had any idea what he was in for.

An improvement over the previous game was that Malfoy was still too traumatised from finding a dead unicorn and being humiliated by Snape in front of his whole House to bother anyone.

The dead unicorn issue had not only bothered him, but Rowena and Godric as well. Helga had written back and agreed that she didn't like it a bit. It was agreed that Salazar, the best speaker of them all, was to go have a chat with the centaurs after the game. Manoeuvring his broom around Salazar set himself to find the Snitch and finish the game. Perhaps if he finished soon enough he could still owl Helga a letter.

The snitch was found ten minutes later by one of the Weasley twins who gave him a shout so he could go after it. Fortunately he was nearer to the Snitch than the other team's Seeker so he had the advantage there.

Once again as he closed his fist round the little bugger the crowd went mad. This time it was even worse than the last time since they had won the Cup.

Once on the ground and with the Cup in his hands Oliver Wood started to cry in joy and wouldn't stop hugging both the Weasley twins since he wasn't sure which one had spotted the Snitch and Salazar, who had caught it.

According to Godric the celebrations in his House lasted for the longer part of the night and were up to notch. Knowing that if Godric approved of the party that had been thrown both Rowena and him were glad they were no longer in that House.

Unfortunately Salazar's night hadn't been spent in celebration. Since he wasn't a Gryffindor anymore he couldn't enter the common room, which just suited him for his plans for the night.

Placing on himself the Disillusionment charm he was able to easily slip out of the Slytherin common room.

Walking through the castle in the dead of the night, only occasional noises coming from the Gryffindor Tower as they partied wildly, Salazar had even less problems. He figured Filch and Mrs. Norris were both patrolling the corridors near the Gryffindor Tower in hopes of catching some wayward celebrator.

Arriving at the edge of the Forbidden Forest Salazar quickly undid his charm and walked into the Forest.

When he thought he was far enough that Hagrid wouldn't hear him he said clearly, "Spokesman from Hogwarts coming through to speak with the owners of the Forest, the Centaurs!"

It was a mouthful, granted, but it had worked in his time whenever there needed to be established contact with the centaurs.

He walked further and repeated it again, this time in a loud voice, "Spokesman from Hogwarts coming through to speak with the owners of the Forest, the Centaurs!"

Along his way deeper into the Forest he kept repeating it over and over, each time louder.

Finally, after walking for over an hour –

"SPOKESMAN FROM HOGWARTS COMING THROUGH TO SPEAK WITH THE OWNERS OF THE FOREST, THE CENTAURS!"

"There is no need to shout, human", said a deep voice. A centaur stepped out from behind a tree.

"You are a child", he stated bluntly.

Salazar drew himself straighter, "I gather that the noble Centaurs of the forest have heard of the back-coming of the Founders?"

The centaur narrowed his eyes at him, "And you claim to be one of the Founders of old?"

"Indeed I do", said Salazar matter-of-factly, "I may seem like a child, but that might only be in flesh, for in mind I am far elder."

"Proof it", said another centaur as he stepped out from behind another tree. Salazar had the brief inkling that he was surrounded by them.

"About a thousand human years ago this forest was neither man nor Centaur land. When the castle of Hogwarts was build, the magic began to attract all kinds of life forms. Some noble – others not so noble. The Chief Centaur came to the Founders and asked for the southern lands of the Forest and they agreed in change for the protection of the Centaurs and ever since they have protected this Forest and called it their home", said Salazar with grandeur, deciding to stop there. It all was true, the centaurs had asked for part of the Forest and they had said that, yes, if they would protect them in turn.

It turned out that the centaurs had understood – or at least they claimed so – that they were to protect the Forest, not the castle. Furthermore they started calling the Forest home and once a centaur calls a place home you might as well burn it to the ground and they'll still call it home and stay just there.

They were all just a bunch of overly-pretty stubborn mules in Salazar's personal opinion.

"Would it that the noble Centaurs of the Forest believe me now?", he asked in sumptuousness.

The second centaur grumbled, "Yes we do."

A third centaur came out from behind another tree, "May we know why one of the Founders has come to meet with the Centaurs?"

Salazar inclined his head slightly to the third centaur, he was clearly the leader, "I am honoured with the presence of the Chief of the noble Centaurs."

The third centaur nodded back, "My name is Moonlight, it is likewise an honour to meet one of the Founders. We heard from the ghosts of your return and your desire to keep it quiet, I can see now why."

"It is in my best will to come and thank you for your discretion, Chief Moonlight."

"But you are not here for that alone", said Moonlight.

"Alas, as fate may have it you are right. I am here in hopes of finding out if you know about the unicorn slayer that has been tormenting the Forest."

Murmuring broke out all around him.

"The terror!", one of them shrieked.

Salazar had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. As if an unicorn killer was the worst that had come into the Forest. Back in his times werewolves would flock to the Forest on full moons. It had taken a lot to get the most of them out. And he wasn't even going to think about that time when a vampire couple had also tried to move in.

Moonlight finished shivering, "We have noticed him."

Salazar leant forward eagerly, "Him? Was it a human then?"

"I'm not sure how much humanity he had left, but he looked like a human adult male."

"Could you describe his appearance to me?"

"Bane saw him once. Bane!"

The second centaur stepped forward. He didn't seem to like much the idea of having Salazar there, but the Founders had made a speaking contract that allowed them to speak with the centaurs. For the good of both races, Helga had told them back then. The centaurs had reluctantly agreed when Godric had started to sharpen his sword in front of them.

"The terror was about the height of an average adult human – his skin tone was light", said Bane grumpily.

"Did you see his eyes or anything else that might help?", he asked.

Bane shuddered, "I saw his eyes – they were scarlet, hideous."

Salazar nodded, "When was the last time you know he passed through the Forest?"

Bane looked uncertain, "He had not come back since Hagrid and the human boy came to look for the Unicorn."

Maybe they scared him, thought Salazar, "Your help has been of most valued importance. I will part now – and remember the wisdom of the noble Centaurs of the Forest."

Moonlight nodded solemnly, "You may depart, Founder of the castle of Hogwarts."

Salazar quickened his steps and scurried out of the Centaur territory as fast as he could. So they had a Dark Wizard on their hands, eh? This would be the fifth one to drop by the Forest in search for unicorn blood that he knew of. There had probably been more through the years, but right now he wasn't caring much about them.

There was also the possibility that their Dark Wizard had already fled – or died.

So how was he going to break this to Rowena and Godric?

"So we have a unicorn blood sucking Dark Wizard roaming through the Forbidden Forest? Peachy, when are we going to confront it?", said Godric all too enthusiastically for Salazar's liking.

"You took that better than I would have expected", he confessed and glanced to Rowena who for once had looked up from her book and was now looking into the distance.

They were all seated in the Library, the place was almost empty. Tonight would be end of year feast and the next day they would all be off home, so most people were packing or spending their last hours with their friends.

"What do you think 'Row?"

Rowena sighed and rubbed her eyes, "I think that the possibilities are high that that thing is already dead, so it would be no use to try duelling it Godric."

Godric looked crestfallen, "But I could still go search for the body?"

"In the Forbidden Forest?", Salazar snorted, "You'll be lucky if you find even one bone of the corpse if he is indeed dead."

"We should really be worrying more about going back to our homes", said Rowena dejectedly and glanced down at her books, "I suppose there is still the Muggle library, but it won't be the same as this one."

"Cheer up 'Row, at least you'll get to know your parents", said Godric with a smile.

Rowena didn't look excited about that idea.

"Come on", insisted Godric, "Think about who you had had a family back home. The Duke of Raven's Claw was a nut case, you yourself said so. Mr. and Mrs. Granger can't be any worse than he was!"

"I suppose you're right on that one", said Rowena and let her shoulders sag a bit, "What about you Sal', with whom will you be staying exactly? I know you once mentioned relatives."

Salazar had to fight to hide his sneer. Godric gave him a weird look.

"My maternal aunt and uncle. Muggles", he sat quiet, as if those words explained everything.

For Godric and Rowena they did.

"Ah, I see now", said Rowena with a frown and glanced at Godric who was examining the ceiling, "I guess we should try to stay in contact. Continue to write in out code, like we have thus far with Helga."

"I agree", said Godric, having parted with his ceiling gazing.

"Then its set then", said Salazar.

That evening the feast was more than wonderful. Gryffindor also won the House Cup, breaking Slytherin's record of six years of winning. Godric was ecstatic. Salazar was mildly annoyed that his House hadn't won for the seventh time. Rowena was pissed that Ravenclaw hadn't won the Cup in ages. As a whole, all three promised to have their House winning the Cup the next year.

Salazar's second year at Hogwarts as a student hadn't already started and it was already holding some interesting prospects. A decent inter-house competition coupled with Helga finally coming back to her home was more than Salazar could have asked for.

The next day they finally got to get a view on how children were transported. The first years were now transported in boats across the lake while the rest of the school got carriages pulled by Thestrals. Rowena had been positively horrified when she saw the Thestrals.

She also hadn't approved that much of the boats but when she saw all the children were enjoying themselves she relented a bit.

Godric had approved of all the transportation mediums and Salazar had just shrugged and said 'its acceptable'.

None of them could say anything negative of the Express.

"Soft seats, a woman selling food on a trolley and a great view", said Rowena in approval, "I think this might very well improve on how we transported them back home."

"You think? Rowena we transported them on a wagon that often got stuck every few miles and sometimes we ran out of food near the end so we had to go hunting!", said Godric exasperatedly.

"I know it'll sound weird, but I agree with him", said Salazar.

Rowena rolled her eyes at them and went back to a book she had supposedly packed for home.

Once the train was approaching the station and Salazar had gotten his trunk out from under his seat and was about to grab his owl when Godric suddenly stopped him.

"Sal', I am afraid that I have to tell you something", he said nervously.

Rowena straightened up, "I'll just leave", she said and was quickly out of the compartment with her things.

"Yeah?", said Salazar suspiciously.

Godric took a deep breath, "I owled Helga."

The way he'd said it he might as well be confessing the worst of crimes. Salazar blinked at him, "Yes, she's your sister here."

"No, no, not about that. You don't understand", he said the words slowly, "I owled Helga."

Salazar was still frowning in confusion when it hit him.

"Godric, please tell me you didn't do what I think you did", he said urgently.

Godric winced, "Sorry, I had to tell you, it's not fair that you go out there unaware", he grabbed his stuff, "Sorry", he said in pity and was out the door.

Salazar stood still for a moment.

For years Helga had had the uncanny ability to derail his master plans that often took months to plot, only on the moral basis that it was wrong.

Godric had an even worse penchant of sensing when he was plotting something, be it good or bad, big or small. And he always told or either Rowena or Helga about it. Salazar had never really appreciated either of the abilities.

He had many times just wished he could do whatever he wanted – and after Helga had died he had done pretty much just that. Though he still would have given anything to hear her rant at him again till he 'found reason' and saw the 'error in his ways'.

The thought of seeing Helga today again, even if she was going to rant at him about how bad vengeance was supposed to be, made his heart swell.

Roughly grabbing his trunk and bird cage he hurried to the nearest door and waited eagerly for it to open.

"You don't look nearly as bad as I expected you to", said Rowena as she appeared at his side.

Godric appeared at his other side, "You sure you understood me well?"

"You went tattletaling me and my plans to H-", he glanced around and noticed the corridor was getting crowded with children, "Ginny. I really need to find out how you figure this kind of things out."

Godric frowned, "You don't look upset – and it's not tattletaling if she's your-", he lower his voice to a whisper, "-wife."

"Yes it is tattletaling no matter who you're telling what and as for your question-", he gulped down the emotions that were threatening to spill out, "I haven't seen her in so long – I'm just glad that she'll be there, even if she scolds me."

Rowena dabbed her eyes, "I – I can relate to that. Oh Go-Ron!", she said and threw herself on Godric, "I'll miss you!"

The train slowed into a stop and suddenly the prefects were there to open the doors.

Salazar jumped out of the train, dragging his trunk behind him and rushed to search for Helga.

Searching for a family of red heads narrowed down the time it took him to find her exponentially.

"He-Ginny!", he exclaimed in joy when he found her at her parent's side.

"Harry!", she greeted, her eyes shining, and rushed to hug him.

He relished the hug like it would be the first and the last of his entire life.

"Ginny!", came Godric's excited bellow that had him hastily – but reluctantly – let go of Helga, lest her parents noticed something.

Rowena was distracting them by re-introducing herself politely and talking a mile per minute.

"Come with me, quick", whispered Helga, grabbed his hand – his heart soared – and dragged him behind a pillar.

"Helga", he said happily.

"Salazar Slytherin you giant pillock!", she said harshly.

He blinked. Oh, right. She was angry at him.

He still smiled at her, "I've missed you."

Helga sighed, "Me too. Now, important matters, we don't have much time. What the hell are you planning to do to that family of yours?"

"They're not my family!", he hissed back.

"Perhaps not by choice, but they are and that means no vengeance on them", Helga gave him a pointed look.

"Look Helga", he could help but feel like arguing, even if he knew that he was going to lose, "I'm not planning on killing them or anything-"

"Oh, I'm not worrying about you killing them, no. I'm worrying about you doing something worse than killing them."

"There's nothing worse than dying!", he answered more harshly than he intended.

Helga sighed once again, "We'll talk about that another day. For now – you're bloody Salazar bloody Slytherin. Show you are more than some vengeful airhead, will you?"

Salazar glared at her. He had to do it. It was his role in these kind of conversations. Glare while she was winning the argument.

"Salazar", she said sternly and glanced at her parents. They were now being introduced to the Grangers while Godric was patting Rowena's shoulder. She seemed ready to cry.

He huffed, "Fine. I won't do anything – yet."

Helga had an exasperated expression, "I'll owl you. Or even better, you'll owl me."

Salazar took another glance at her parents. They were saying their goodbyes to the Grangers. Rowena was hugging Godric fiercely and seemed to be crying in his shoulder.

Salazar looked back at Helga, gave her a quick hug and whispered in her ear, "I'll owl you as soon as I get home. I promise you."

"You better", whispered Helga back.

They walked to the Weasleys and Grangers. Mrs. Granger was trying to calm down Rowena who was shakily saying, "It's fine, I'll be fine", while she was still crying.

She spotted him and Helga and rushed to hug Helga.

"He-Ginny, see you soon!", and then in a surprising turn for Salazar she turned to hug him.

"Bye S-Harry!", she let go of him, gave a stiff nod and walked over to her parents who were looking on, baffled.

"Er – yes, good day!", said Mr. Granger and lead his family off.

"She's not normally like this", said Godric, drying tears from his cheeks with his sleeve.

Salazar wondered if he was looking the same.

Mrs. Weasley patted Godric gently on his shoulder, "We better go on. Oh, hi Harry! I'm sorry I didn't see you!"

"Hey Ronnikins, what was that display with Hermione?", said one of the twins, appearing out of nowhere.

"Yeah!", said the other one, "We didn't know she was your girlfriend!"

"Oh shut it you", mumbled Godric, but Salazar saw his lips tug into a slight smile. He was just humouring the twins.

"How has your new House treated you Harry?", asked Mrs. Weasley, concern shining in her eyes.

Salazar shrugged, trying to come off as nonchalant, "I guess we're getting along more or less. At least I think my room-mates are used to me now", he said and internally snickered. Ha, he wondered what she would say if she knew that he was on his way to be the top of the social pyramid of his House.

"Poor dear", said Mrs. Weasley sympathetically.

"If you need any help, you can always owl us, you know Harry", said Mr. Weasley.

Salazar thanked them. People helping orphans like that weren't common. Back home he would have congratulated and praised them, least he could do here was to be thankful.

"Right, we must be going – where's Percy?", asked Mrs. Weasley. The twins shrugged.

"There he is!", pointed Mr. Weasley, "We'll go for him. Have nice holidays Harry!"

"Bye Harry", said Godric and gave him a firm handshake that had he had more muscle would probably have broken his arm.

"Bye Go-Ron, remember to owl me", he rubbed his hand and out of the blue got a hug from Helga.

"I'll miss you", she whispered in his ear and just as suddenly let go of him and ran off after her family.

Salazar beamed at her retreating form.

Turning around and making sure he still had all his things he went to look for that barrier Rowena had talked about reading in Hogwarts, a History.

Once he'd overcome his questioning about walking through a solid wall and walked through said wall Salazar openly gaped.

He saw at the end of the station Rowena being pulled away by her parents. She was also gaping.

And how not to? The station was not only ridiculously full with people but there were modern trains both coming in and going out. Artificial lights hanged from the ceiling and were functioning without magic. The Muggles were wearing weird clothing – like the ones he'd found in his trunk, only it fitted them. There was a board announcing what trains were going where and when – this was also functioning without magic. And there was somebody announcing loudly about the trains – this, Salazar realized, was probably also done without magic.

He was still gaping at the infrastructure of the building when he heard a loud, "BOY!"

He turned around and saw the only people he recognized in the sea of Muggles.

"I'm coming Uncle!", he called and walked towards the man with the quivering moustache. Oh, how he wished Helga hadn't made him promise that he would do anything to them. Hopefully he could convince her to let him do some less dangerous things to them.

"Move it boy!"

Perhaps he could just dip some cyanide into their tea and claim innocence later?

* * *

 **I'm putting in efforts for next chapter. I'm trying to make their reaction to the future world realistic and I hope I'll do good at it.**

 **Please review!**


	7. Life at Home

**Finally, after a harsh month of harsh exams and losing all hope in between, as I think it happens to all of us when in the middle of your exams we suddenly have bronchitis. Which, let me tell you, was NOT a pleasant experience and I'm only now started to really get over it.**

 **But enough of sad stories.**

 **Ladies and Gentlemen! Let me present to you _THE LONGEST CHAPTER I'VE EVER WRITTEN IN MY LIFE!_**

 **Over 11k, I couldn't be prouder of myself, even if this chapter doesn't advance the plot (which will only really begin by the second year) it does, or I hope it does, give you all a glimpse into the mindset of the Founders in this new era, adapting.**

 **So without further ado, enjoy.**

* * *

Life at Home

 **Salazar**

It was hot and smouldering outside the house. Unfortunately the house was full of Muggles and Salazar would rather die fried outside than sit inside with a bunch of insolent Muggles.

They'd already tried to disrespect him for which he'd given them a glare potent enough to set an ice cube on fire. That had made them leave him alone.

So alone, in fact, that they were doing everything their power to pretend he never had come back from Hogwarts. Which meant they weren't giving him any food, which was bad.

On the other hand, they also weren't giving him any chores, which was good.

To remedy his situation he'd gone walking around on his first day back and caught a rat for his owl – whom he'd learned was named Hedwig. Even if he'd gone out more to find something for himself, if he could feed his owl he figured he could get his letters send no problem.

Though there was no way in hell he was asking food from anyone.

Sleeping in his Muggle room had been torture – well, perhaps not that much. The last Muggle room he'd been given had been horrible to say the least, but this one – well, it had this artificial light in the ceiling.

He'd tackled that mystery on his first night back and promptly discovered the world of electricity and its wonders.

Now he didn't have any light for the night unless he managed to steal a candle and he was twitching at random intervals. He had this inkling that close encounters with electricity weren't that healthy for you, Muggle or Wizard.

At least he'd managed to write Helga her letter before he'd tried to play science with the electricity.

Science. Now that was a new word for Salazar and it probably would have stayed unknown for him if he hadn't gone through some children primary school books that his moronic cousin had left in the room. The books were tattered and worn, but not by reading. They'd most likely been used to practice target with some unfortunate children.

By these books he'd learned the basics of science and the Muggle history of recent times. He'd owled Rowena about both books and told her that he didn't think it wise to inspect the power source of the artificial lights.

On his second day he'd unfortunately finished all school-related books in his room. He was also hungry, the last time he'd eaten was on the train. He tried to will his body into obeying him and not feel hunger. Salazar had had enough experiences with hunger and famine in his younger days and had managed to train himself to withstand it. He had to, or he'd have died.

But this new, feeble little body was untrained, had been well fed at Hogwarts and felt the hunger with disturbing clarity.

Deciding that he should probably last longer if he slept he curled up in a ball on his bed and closed his eyes.

He was awoken three times that day. The first was when his cousin had lost some game of a sort and threw a tantrum in his room, which was just at his room's side. Nobody aside from him seemed to hear as the boy destroyed his room. Closing his eyes he fervently hoped the idiot didn't try to come in his room while he slept.

The second time was when Hedwig came back with both Rowena and Helga's replies. He quickly scribbled them their answers. Helga's letter could be admitted as a poem against vengeance. It was so like her that he smiled at it and tucked it under his pillow. He answered her with a counter-argument to only do the Dursleys little damage, nothing permanent.

Rowena wrote about plugs and their incredible power and how she was trying to find a safe way to open one up and poke it. Salazar wasn't sure what she meant with the words 'poke it', but it somehow rang a bell in his head that said bad idea. He wrote her all he'd read about electricity in the books and asked her to be careful with the plugs.

Attached to Helga's letter he wrote Godric a few words asking him if he'd heard about the wars the Muggles had been fighting all the years. As it was Godric was already incredibly jealous that so many Wizarding wars and Goblin rebellions had transpired without him being able to take part in them.

Sending Hedwig off, he fell asleep once more.

The third and last time he woke up that day was when his aunt called his cousin to dinner.

He waited, half hopeful that they would call him to also dine, even if every logic cell in his body told him it wasn't going to happen he just couldn't ignore the hunger that well anymore.

Nobody came and eventually he fell asleep again.

Things were looking pear-shaped the next day. It was his third day home and he still hadn't had a thing to eat and had only drunk from the faucet. His stomach ached horribly and he was sure that he was near his limit.

Deciding that after his limit came possible starvation Salazar got up and went out in search for – anything really.

He walked in circles mostly and after a few hours just sat on the sidewalk moping.

After he'd felt sorry for himself for more than he was willing to admit an old lady approached him. He was possibly supposed to remember her but he felt too miserable to more than stare at her as she rambled on about her cats. Seeing her legs he could guess she had more cats than she probably should and at least two of them had tried to use her as a scratching post.

Then his stomach had growled in hunger in an embarrassing way and he'd tried to apologize but the lady wouldn't know any of it and took him to her house and gave him cake.

He was almost willing to hug the old lady from the relief he felt. She gave him all the cake he asked for and all the milk he could drink. Some little voice in the back of his mind told him that eating just cake wasn't good, but the much louder voice of hunger was ordering him to stuff himself with it.

He was in the middle of eating his nth piece of cake when his senses began kicking in and started noticing things again.

The cats that the woman had weren't really that much cats. Well they were in a way, but not quite.

They were Kneazles.

"Mrs.-", he groped for her name, "Figg?"

"Hmm?", she hummed as she came out of the kitchen with another glass of milk.

"What kind of breed are your cats exactly?", he asked warily. He was willing to bet those weren't just cats.

"Ah – well", she paused nervously.

Salazar knew he had her cornered, "Those are Kneazles, aren't they?"

The woman hesitated.

"You're a witch?"

"Eh – no – eh – I – a Squib actually", she said nervously.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?", he was sure he had a distinct recollection of not knowing he was a wizard until he was eleven.

"It wasn't my secret to tell", she said miserably, "You were supposed to live a normal life."

Normal life? Well yeah, the wizarding community could argue that he'd lived a somewhat normal life, but he would always argue back that it'd been a somewhat miserable normal life.

"I – see", he said and noticed the woman looked guilty. Perhaps she felt remorse?

"Can we talk about this again later?", he asked sweetly, "I'll be back tomorrow morning, I have to go back home now", he excused himself, said goodbye and went back to the Muggle home.

Hedwig arrived with new letter and he finally gave her the rat he'd caught the other day as a reward while he read his letters.

Godric mostly moaned in his letter, not only about not being able to participate in Muggle wars but also about de-gnoming the backyard and being bored. Salazar wrote back about finding the Kneazle obsessed Squib living near his home and how he was going to interrogate her the next day.

Helga's letter was a perfect counter-argument to his counter-argument. He tucked this as well under his pillow. He wrote back a counter-argument to her counter-argument of his counter-argument. He was smiling the whole time he wrote it.

Rowena wrote about how she had gone to visit the library and was probably going to be too busy there to answer his next letter, but he shouldn't worry 'cause she would be researching about how a thing called 'microwave' worked, whatever that was.

He wrote her an answer anyways. He asked what a microwave was.

The next morning Salazar made sure he was at Mrs. Figg's house by breakfast time. That part of the plan went smoothly. He'd then made sad faces till she offered him a breakfast. That part of the plan also worked smoothly. Things only started to go south when she started to cry because one of her cats was using her leg as a scratching post again. He'd thrown the cat out and told the woman that everything was alright and that she shouldn't feel bad about anything. After all, it wasn't as if he could blame her for the fact of the Dursleys being idiots.

She'd smiled at him and started to sniffle. He'd already gotten up to throw another cat out when he noticed that she was just being emotional. She told him he was a good boy and invited him to have lunch with her for as many times as he wished.

He really had trouble stopping himself from hugging the woman then and there.

That day Helga wrote him back a counter-argument of his counter-argument of her counter-argument of his counter-argument. He was grinning all the time when he wrote it.

Godric wrote him about playing Quidditch with his brothers and how strange it was to actually have brothers and not sisters and that these brothers were your genuine brothers. Sometimes Salazar would feel a bit of sympathy for Godric. His friend had been adopted into a family that had six daughters, two of which, turned out to be witches. The other four, in a rare demonstration of family bonding had sided with the three members of their family that were magical and moved out with them when they were kicked out by their irate father. Life, however, hadn't been kind to them and they all soon got separated. Godric had still wanted to pursue his luck as a knight even if he was a wizard. He'd trained hard in both disciplines and mastered them in a way that was truly astounding.

Then they had all met, the Founders. Only they weren't the Founders back then and only a bunch of misfits that bickered all the time and ran into too much trouble. But they had prevailed and had formed a bond stronger than anything, especially between him and Godric, there were no friends as close as they were – or still are. They were still like that, even after they married. Their wives could set the melody and the colour of the world, make their lives a blessing or a curse, but when weary they would always have the back of the other to lean on.

After they'd build Hogwarts and started to make a name for themselves as actually being teachers and not just a group of adventurers Godric's sisters re-emerged.

They came in ones and twos, soon they were settling themselves near the castle of their favourite – and only – brother the knight wizard – or wizard knight, that issue in specific had never been cleared.

Point being, they'd founded Hogsmeade to be near their brother. Salazar wondered what the wizarding world say if they heard Hogsmeade had been founded by four Muggle women, their families and two witches and their families. He'd come across the prejudice against anything Muggle related when he'd been Re-Sorted into his House. In part he couldn't blame them because he also wasn't that fond of Muggles in general, but it was nowhere near the hate some of them felt.

What was worse was that they attributed most of Muggle hate to him. It had come as a shocker when he'd gone through the library to read on what they had about the Founders. They had depicted him as the master Dark Wizard of all times and that the golden Gryffindor had saved the day when he'd kicked him out of the castle. He sometimes wondered what would Godric say if he was to ever read those books. For now he was just glad Helga hadn't read what they had written about her. Her cooking endeavours were apparently the only thing they'd bothered to remember over the years.

Salazar sighed, he alone could write a book on what she was good at besides being a great cook.

Concentrating back on his letters Salazar wrote back to Godric about the good old days when they were building Hogsmeade and it had nothing more than two shacks. He wondered how it looked now, but from what he'd seen on the train and from Hogwarts he was willing to bet that it was huge.

Rowena hadn't answered him that day. No surprise in that.

He still wrote her a small letter asking if she know how the telefune worked and if she had one in her home. It seemed like an interesting object to tinker with.

He sat still at his desk for hours afterwards. Maybe if he stole food in the nights for dinner and didn't eat breakfast he'd survive these holidays.

 **Godric**

Godric gazed boringly at his boring rat in his boring room. He wasn't sure why his room was covered in posters of a Quidditch team that always lost. Why would he support such a team? Was it the colours? It had to be the colours, if not that he didn't know what.

And why had he gotten the boring rat? Ever since he'd gotten back he'd been thinking up ways to get rid of the thing. Problem was he was trying to make it look natural. He'd left the thing outside his dorm room in hopes that it would wander off and find a new owner, or perhaps get eaten by one of the cats of the other children, but no such luck.

Once he'd left him outside the Fat Lady's portrait in hopes that Filch would take it away, but that hadn't worked either. It had found its way back in and was peacefully snoozing on the carpet in front of the fire when he'd gotten back.

He hated it.

Still he wasn't the sort to kill an innocent defenceless creature, even if it was damn annoying.

"Maybe I could turn it purple", he murmured. It was worth a shot, besides, he didn't have anything better to do till his letter from Salazar arrived. He doubted Rowena would answer him this soon, she'd just emerged from her book reading yesterday to answer his letter, she wasn't going to be answering him today.

This had been going on a week. He was almost two full weeks at the Barrow now and she'd been in bookland for over a week now. He was just waiting for her to take more than two days to answer him so he could have an excuse to go visit her.

He was already contemplating taking his broom – however old and slow it might be – and visit Salazar. Helga would probably throw a fit when she found out that he went and didn't take her along, but he couldn't take her along and he was missing someone to talk to in person.

"Purple it is then", he said more loudly this time and fished out his cauldron. Since he wasn't allowed to do magic out of Hogwarts and he was sure they would notice if he did any – he still had to figure out how exactly – he was going to brew a potion.

He went a floor down and heard another explosion come from the twin's room. He shook his head and went another floor down to Percy's room.

"Percy", he called as he knocked.

The door opened and Percy stuck his head out, "Ron?", he asked, flabbergasted.

"Um, I'm going to make a potion, but I don't have the right sort of books, could I borrow some of yours?"

Percy stared at him as if he'd grown a second head.

"Percy? You all right there?", he asked, "Should I fetch a glass of water?"

"No – it's not necessary – what are you going to try make exactly?", Percy narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"A basic colour changing potion for a – ah – living thing", explained Godric.

Percy huffed, "Who are you going to prank?"

"Nobody", said Godric truthfully.

"Don't lie to me Ron, I don't help pranksters", said Percy sternly.

"But I'm not lying", he argued.

"Then what in Merlin's name are you going to do?"

"Change the rat's colour."

Percy blinked, "Scabbers?"

"Um – yes", said Godric uncertainly, he wasn't sure what was the rat's name.

"Why would you want to do that?"

"He's boring the way he is now", he whined.

"So you want to change his colour?", asked Percy disbelievingly.

"Yup", said Godric, popping the 'p'.

"That's insane."

"Yup", he popped the 'p' again.

Percy sighed, "I think I have a book from my third year that might help you", he held the door open and let Godric in.

They ended up having a nice day. Godric, already used to Rowena, dealt easily with Percy's rambles about potion ingredients and organical factors in brewing a potion to change a rat's colour. Truth be told Godric had never really interested himself in potions aside from the healing ones and Percy had never been faced with such a silly project so it was a mutual learning experience. Godric supposed that this was what bonding was.

He went back the next day after asking his mother if he could brew a potion on her stove. She hadn't been too keen on his petition but when he promised that Percy would be around she relented.

Percy was also surprised that he had included him. Making the potion took them hours. To change a rat's colour to purple was more difficult than what Godric would have expected. It was the colour, Percy had explained. If he'd wanted to turn Scabbers to say, red or yellow, it would have been much easier.

Needless to say they were both quite shocked when, after all their work, Scabbers turned green after drinking the potion.

They both sat in confusion at the dining table watching the now green Scabbers eat a lump of cheese.

"I don't understand", said Percy for the tenth time in five minutes.

"Join the club", said Godric.

"Maybe we added too much flaxseed?", pondered Percy.

"I thought that fire was too warm. Sa- eh – Harry is good at potions and his fires are never that warm."

"It greatly depends on the type of the potion, I doubt you've ever seen him brew something to change a living thing's colour", said Percy.

Godric had to agree on that.

A few seconds passed in silence.

"I don't understand", repeated Percy for the eleventh time.

Suddenly Scabbers twitched.

They both leaned forward in anticipation.

"Say, there isn't any possibility that we might have done something to kill the little critter, have we?", queried Godric.

"No, no, I checked the ingredients, all are safe for organic consumption", said Percy pompously.

Scabbers twitched again.

They leaned closer.

Slowly, from the very roots of Scabbers' fur, it began to turn yellow.

Percy and Godric watched in astonishment as the rat turned from green to yellow.

"Now I really don't understand!", said Percy, gobsmacked.

As it turned out in the days afterwards, Scabbers kept changing from colour. From yellow to pink, from pink to magenta, from magenta to orange, it changed every now and then, all the colours of the rainbow. Except purple for some reason.

The twins loved it and wanted to have their potion recipe, but Percy wouldn't give it to them, but they insisted so Percy got angry and they continued to taunt and tease him. At the end Mrs. Weasley had to intervene and she wasn't at all happy that they had turned Scabbers into a colour-changing rat in the first place.

Godric wrote about the whole incident to Salazar, including the potion ingredients and the methods in which they brewed it with. If there was anybody that could figure out what had happened it would be Salazar.

He also wrote Rowena a letter to remind her of his first letter. He dearly hoped she hadn't been buried alive under an assembly of books that had toppled over. That was really something he didn't want to go through again. It had happened seven times after they had married and he knew of at least five times it had happened before. What was worse was that their youngest, Helena, had inherited that problem. He wasn't sure how they managed it, they just placed books, books and more books around themselves till they just misplaced one and the whole lot fell on them.

It really despaired him sometimes.

Before he sent off Hedwig with his new letters Helga came running into his room and handed him her letter for Salazar. She was grinning again. Every time for over a week now she handed him Salazar's letter with a grin on her face.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to know what they were writing to each other.

Suppressing a shudder he tied all the letters on Hedwig's paws and set her off.

"Maybe we should use Errol next time", said Helga, "Hedwig is looking tired."

"Hmm", he hummed in agreement.

"What exactly did you do to Scabbers?"

"Not sure. I owled Sal about it just now."

"The twins want your recipe."

"I know."

"Why not give them one?"

He turned around to see she was still grinning, only now there was a mischievous glint in her eyes. Godric grinned back, sometimes he really liked that she had turned out to be related to him.

 **Rowena**

It was nearing midnight and yet Rowena of Raven's Claw-Griffin D'or was still reading. When she'd arrived at her home with her parents she'd discovered the wonderful modern world and couldn't help but wonder how each little thing worked. She had started with the plugs and the wall sockets. Observing them closely had let her to believe that just poking them might prove to be a bad idea.

So she set off for the nearest library on her first day home and gathered all she could on electricity. She was fascinated.

Her parents were already looking at her strangely but she had told them that she was just curious. They had somewhat reluctantly accepted her newest obsession of reading up all about modern science and helped her get her library card.

It had been wonderful till her first weekend at home when it was raining too much and she couldn't go to the library.

So she raided her father's study and discovered they she had inherited her bookishness after all and not just developed it over the years.

She discovered fiction. She discovered that she liked Jules Verne, discovered that she like H. G. Wells and many, many others. She probably would have discovered more about the modern world of fiction if the rain hadn't stopped and she was able to continue reading up on physics.

Throughout all her stay she had been receiving owls almost daily. Godric kept writing her about his boring house and how he wished they could be back at Hogwarts. Those letters almost always made her blush and hide his letters under her mattress so her parents couldn't discover them.

She would love to write him back everyday but her sense of time was dodgy at best and she had too many books to read. According to her calculations it would take her six months to read every single book in her local library – it was a big library – and she didn't have them right now so se better set herself to work.

Her parents had stared at her for long moments after she'd explained to them her schedule. They were rather concerned when they noted she hadn't enclosed time to eat in her schedule. It took her some time to explain that she'd be eating while she read.

They still looked at her weirdly afterwards.

Godric was having a similar reaction to her schedule, though he knew she wouldn't forget to eat. He was more concerned about the books falling on her or turning into a book herself. The first one she could understand but the latter had never happened to her or anybody she had heard of.

Salazar was at least joining her in their intellectual marvelling. Though she had the faint suspicion he had done something that he shouldn't have with his artificial light. They both talked about simple theories for the first week, and by the second week she had him convinced to go to his nearest library. They had been owling each other theories and equations for two weeks since and Rowena was enjoying it greatly.

Salazar had always been the only one of her friends to be able to keep track on what she was saying. He might not have been an expert like her but it was always amazing to have somebody that understood you.

Helga – Helga was her best friend. They wrote about the headaches their husbands could give them and the joy it was to have them back. Rowena couldn't help but feel a bit teary every time she thought about having Godric back after all the years she had spent without him.

Helga and she had been brought up in similar circumstances. Rowena had been adopted by a lonely Duke that didn't want to let his library pass on to some moron that couldn't even read. Helga had been adopted by the young Duke and Duchess of Hufflepuff who thought they couldn't have children. By their surprise they ended up having ten children, all born after they had adopted Helga and all whose names started with an 'H'. According to Helga the family reunions were 'H' nightmares – whatever that might mean. All Rowena really understood about it was that Helga had gone out of her way to make sure none of her children had an 'H' in their names.

Besides her letters and book reading there wasn't much Rowena could do at her house. She had tried a couple of times to talk to her parents to try to get to know them but always felt like there was a gap between them. It probably had to do with her living for 120 years without them and not remembering them at all.

She tried to connect with them on the basic level that they all loved books, but they were getting worried about her so called 'excessive reading habits' so there wasn't much love for books that could be shared around.

Another thing that made it difficult for her to express some of her feelings was the fact that her father looked almost identical to her eldest Gwaith, except that Gwaith was ginger of course. Besides that there really was little to no difference. She'd even owled to Godric about it to ask if he had also noticed it the day after they had woken up in this time.

All in all things weren't getting much better between herself and her parents. So she coped with it in the only way she knew. Reading.

By the end of her third week at home she decided to get another type of book from the library and set herself to study the properties of the electricity socket in her wall. After all, reading all the time was tiring out her eyes and she had a deep desire to experiment with something.

 **Helga**

Helga had grown up the eldest in a family of eleven so big families were nothing new to her. Being the youngest and only female, however, was a totally different story.

The injustices she had to suffer were numerous. Her mom would drag her aside every now and then to help her with something that she wouldn't have the boys do. Mending socks for example. If she hadn't had children of her own back home she would have been shocked at how many socks a family could have to mend.

The other thing was that her brothers would constantly look down at her. Perhaps they didn't mean it, but if somebody – even if that somebody was her brother – looked at her like she was weak, she was going to make him regret it. So far Fred and George had already learned their lesson and Percy was next on her list. He hadn't even done something terrible, like the twins who had told her she couldn't play Quidditch with them because she was too small and flimsy. She had shown them just how flimsy she was afterwards – they probably still had the bruises.

No, Percy had given her a speech on proper decorum and called her a little girl a total of fifteen times throughout it. She didn't care that she was technically a little girl, she was Helga of Hufflepuff-Slytherin and nobody was going to call her a little girl!

She was currently giving him her 'Just You Wait' warning glare across the table while the family had lunch. Fred and George had already noticed it and were keeping a wide berth between them and Percy. Godric had also noticed and was looking at the currently oblivious Percy in amusement.

Out of all the people in the Burrow only Godric was treating her like she was used to. He was the only one that knew she wasn't simple little Ginny Weasley, but a grown up woman who had, back home, had a fair share of strong arms. Rowena had once even joked that she was stronger than Salazar – she had never tried to find out if it was true. She supposed that they might have had a draw, Salazar had gone to battle wielding a sword after all.

The poor man had never really grown out of his scrawniness, even after being adopted by a Duke and Duchess. They'd taken care of him, yes, and smothered him in obscure knowledge. The fact that the Duchess' brother was a wizard was both a blessing and a curse.

A blessing because he was very advanced in potions by the time they had met and started to study together. Not to mention that he had a fine understanding of spell craft that could only be rivalled by Rowena alone. His knowledge on runes was also famous and he had given Rowena's classes on them more than once back at home.

A curse, because nobody had bothered to check if the wizard was actually of the good sort. Salazar's dear 'uncle Timotheo', was one of the darkest wizards of his time. Not that Helga could blame him entirely for the ways Salazar lived by now, for if he hadn't wanted to listen he could just have said no. Instead he had called for his 'uncle' over and over again until there really was no way back and his 'uncle' would rather kill him than lose him. Helga didn't know the specifications but from what Salazar had confided in her she knew that one day when he was fifteen his 'uncle' forced him to take a dreadful decision.

She didn't know what had happened there exactly, she knew that Godric knew the whole story and that had made her exasperated for a time. What she did knew that Salazar took his 'uncle's' challenge and ended up murdering someone. He never even knew the name, but it still haunted his nightmares.

It had also started his dislike for his 'uncle' that would with the years turn into an intense hate. Helga was immensely proud that Salazar had chased the man down later in his life and made him pay for having him murder that someone. It didn't bring the someone back, nor did it stop the haunting in his nightmares, but he had been intensely relieved afterwards.

Helga's attention snapped back to table with lunch when George laughed loudly over something Fred had said. Godric was looking on in boredom. He usually looked like he was about to drop dead from it, the only times he looked mildly interested was when a fight broke out between some of them.

Her mom began clearing up the table and ordering Fred and George around in hopes that they used up all their energy and didn't have any left for pranking later on.

Helga wondered why her mom kept hoping for something that would never happen.

Watching as Percy got up and excused himself to go back to his room, Helga geared into her 'It'll be Happening Soon', glare – Fred and George looked at her in mock horror while making gasping and flailing motions behind their mom as she spoke with Percy.

Godric just looked on with interest.

 **Godric**

Half of their holidays were already used up and Godric hadn't had even one chance to go exploring the Muggle world. He was ready to start complaining vociferously about the issue by now.

The Burrow was dead boring to him. Sure, Fred and George pulled a prank once or twice a day and if they skipped one day you could rest assured that the one for tomorrow would be so loud that you would hear it no matter where you were.

Helga had induced terror into the feeble hearts of her older brothers down to the point that Percy now always stared at her during meals. It was grating on their poor mom's nerves.

Their mom was also making sure the house never stayed quiet. She exploded minimum twice a week at somebody, which normally were just Fred and George.

Their dad was doing extra work in his shed with some Muggle thing that Godric doubted was entirely legal. He really was starting to like that man.

The ghoul wouldn't stop making loud noises in the attic and Godric had gone up once to check if the thing might be a threat. Unfortunately it turned out to be rather friendly.

The incoming and outgoing of owls was also driving their mom up the wall. Feathers were now in almost every place. Godric had just found one the previous day in his underwear.

The garden gnomes were invading their garden again and Godric could sense that his mom was going to have them de-gnome the place before they went back to Hogwarts.

But aside from all that the place was dead boring. Fred and George were researching most of the time in their room and doing goodness knew what else in there to cause explosions. Percy was silent by nature. Their mom wasn't angry all the time and had just that day made a cake that made everybody happy and no fights broke out for the rest of the day. Helga had only needed once to terrify her brothers out of seeing her as weak, besides that she was getting on well enough with all of them. Even the ghoul would stop his noises to take a nap sometimes.

It was ghastly.

Oh, if he only had his sword.

But who would he rescue?

He had been hoping on Rowena needing some rescuing from something, but she was doing quite well herself if her letters were to go by anything.

Not even Salazar, surrounded by people he obviously disliked needed rescuing.

This future time was just daft.

Perhaps he could pretend rescuing Scabbers?

He looked at the rat that was currently snoozing in the sun and looking blue.

Or perhaps he could just go bug Percy into a decent conversation.

 **Helga**

Helga was writing her counter-argument to the counter-argument of Salazar to her counter-argument of his counter-argument of her counter-argument of his counter-argument of her counter-argument of his counter-argument of her counter-argument of his counter-argument of her counter-argument of his counter-argument of her counter-argument of his counter-argument of her counter-argument – she could trace the counter-argumenting back to the beginning of their holidays, each of them writing at least one counter-argument per day.

She wasn't even sure what had started it all, but she had never had more fun in writing letters to anybody. Godric eyed her shrewdly every time he saw her writing with a grin. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what he thought they were writing to each other.

Apart from the counter-argumenting she had weaselled out of Salazar that he was either about to run away or murder somebody. Of course, when she asked him what exactly he was planning on another bout of arguing and subsequent counter-arguing had ensued.

So, in short, her letters now contained two counter-arguments, one for each counter-argumenting that was going on.

Usually she would feel a bit sorry for him, but since he was dead set on getting vengeance on the Dursleys someday she wasn't going to go soft on him. If there was one thing Helga hated and disapproved of it was vengeance. Of course, being married to Salazar Slytherin of all people made that a little tricky. She couldn't always go around and stop him scheming something nasty, it wouldn't be fair.

Scheming was part of Salazar's nature, to ask him to stop doing that would be like asking him to stop being Salazar Slytherin. It would be like him asking her to stop being a hard-worker. It wouldn't do.

So she had settled since the beginning of their relationship to do everything in her power to make him be less nasty. But what he was doing now – it was his own family! And Helga was placing her foot down when it came to family, whether you liked them or not.

Helga might not have liked Salazar going around and toppling kingdoms, disappearing unsuspected heirs and selling poison like candy to anyone shady that asked, but if he was at home in time for dinner enough times a week she wouldn't complain.

When she raised her children she had taught them the importance of loyalty. No child of hers was going to be some disloyal scumbag to his or her own family. She had dragged Salazar into that moral and made him know her family back home. He didn't like them much, but he knew to never go scheming against them. He could scheme about them all he wanted, just not against them.

Now she was trying to apply the same rule to his family and he was fighting back fiercely. Their letters now didn't even mention the Dursleys. Helga was now just going to wait for the Express ride to talk to him, having given up on the hope of doing it through a letter.

Deciding she had had enough with her letter-writing for the day Helga glanced out her window.

Wait – was that Godric trying to climb out of his bedroom window with a rope?

 **Rowena**

Rowena was starting to think she might have overdone all this reading a bit – only a small bit.

Her eyes were sore and tired, her hands were covered in paper cuts, her legs felt horrible from the lack of use and she was sure her stomach was currently empty.

She knew she must also have looked horrible. She knew her hair was frazzled and standing on end and that there were dark circles under her eyes.

When she had made up her schedule she had included a few hours of sleep, but she had never foreseen that she might just forget to do it sometimes.

She had been going through various encyclopaedias in an effort to compare them for the last three days and had only realized yesterday that she hadn't slept in 48 hours. Now it already was 72 hours since she last slept and she was still eyeing one of the issues of the Encyclopaedia Britannica greedily.

Her stomach growled.

Maybe she should take a small break – she checked her schedule – yes, she had about five minutes to spare before it was time to continue reading the medical encyclopaedia she was currently busy with.

Stiffly getting up and stumbling out of her room she made it to the kitchen with minimal problems.

Making up a cheese sandwich was one of the easiest things she could think of so she set herself to make one. Fortunately this time around her mother wasn't around to look at her worriedly like the last time she had ate – she wasn't really sure when that had been.

Hearing the noise of the telly from the living room Rowena realized it must have been time for one of the shows they enjoyed so much to watch.

Looking contentedly down to her cheese sandwich she hungrily took a bite and enjoyed the deliciousness.

Swallowing it down she made her way back to her room, feeling already much better about everything.

She stopped the when she entered the room.

"AAAAAHHHHH!"

Her parents were in her room in seconds.

"Hermione! What happened?! Are you alright?", her mom asked frenetically.

Rowena pointed at her books.

"They fell off!", she said in horror. For, indeed, her stacked up books that she had painstakingly staked up according to the Dewey decimal system were all strewn around in chaos. She had spent her entire holidays stacking those books up – this was _months'_ work.

"They fell off! All my work!", she set down her sandwich glumly and began to cry.

"Oh, come on dear its only books-"

Rowena gave a loud sob at that, interrupting her mom. Her dad was just staring at the piles upon piles upon even more piles of books.

"Come on dear", her dad tried, "I'll help you put some order back into this disaster."

Rowena just nodded in thanks and continued to cry. She had been at this home for three-fourths of the holidays, not even once meeting her friends and husband. She missed Helga's understanding. She missed Salazar's bickering. She missed Godric's boldness. She missed Hogwarts and all its grandeur. She missed her time. She missed her children.

She wanted to go home, be back in her proper time, but this time along with Godric, Salazar and Helga.

"Calm down dear, what about you finish your sandwich and take a nap, eh? You look a bit tired", her dad suggested hopefully.

She sniffed once more, "'Kay", she said and ate her sandwich. It was a small consolation, but at least cheese sandwiches were always delicious.

 **Salazar**

He was ready to crack now.

The holidays were almost over now, just little over two weeks left. He'd endured the morons he had for family the whole time, never receiving anything from them. He'd had to revert to stealing from them and just going out to take care of himself.

Mrs. Figg still helped, but he couldn't possibly survive with just one meal a day. Plus, her cats had taken to use him as a scratching posts as well – a sign of love according to Mrs. Figg.

If the Dursleys had ever noticed him stealing from them he would never know, they were by now deadly afraid from him. Ever since the stunt he pulled of going to their bedroom and sit at the side of their bed till they woke up and then grinned at them evilly.

He could still remember their terrified screaming.

Since that day they were convinced he would kill them in their sleep at the first given opportunity. Now all the rooms of the house were locked at night – except his. He'd caught them trying to install a cat flap once in his bedroom door and just stood there glaring at his uncle till he was shivering too bad to even hold the hammer and let it fall on his foot.

The ensuing visit to the Muggle version of a healer that was called a doctor was fairly entertaining.

They couldn't leave him alone at home since they were sure he would set it on fire or do something freakish to it and Mrs. Figg wasn't at home so they could dump him there.

While the doctor was busy taking something called an x-ray from his uncle's foot Salazar had wondered off, his best mask of innocent little boy in place, and bugged everybody into telling him how the place worked.

By the end of the day even the director of the hospital knew who he was.

He wrote everything he could remember of that day and owled it to Rowena. She was beyond excited at the prospect of going to a hospital. Which was good for him because she had been rather glum in her letters since the day she had asked him if he knew of any effective way to reorganizing a collapsed mountain of books previously staked up to resemble the Dewey decimal system.

He had the vague inkling that this was something he probably should be telling Godric about.

He'd also had the weird problem with disappearing letters which he had to fix with wandless magic while he stalked the roofs of Privet Drive's houses to find the culprit. It was difficult, but then again he was Salazar Slytherin so he could handle it.

Hearing the telly make another blaring sound as some show was going on Salazar shuddered.

It was time he shoved aside his pride and did the unthinkable.

Licking his dry lips Salazar reached for a little piece of parchment and placed in front of him on his desk. Sinking his quill in ink and straightening his back – after all, if he was going to do the unthinkable, he better do it with excellent calligraphy – and set himself to write.

 _'_ _Dear Godric'_ , he began and paused. Was this really the best idea?

Another blare from the telly in the floor below went through the house, followed by the unmistakable laughter of the Dursleys. Oh dear, it was another comedy show.

 _'_ _Come rescue me.'_ , another laughter, _'Hurry up.'_

He quickly folded the letter and tied it to Hedwig's foot.

"Make haste", he told the bird urgently.

She flew away immediately.

Leaning back into his chair Salazar contemplated how long he should wait before he was rescued.

Not long, knowing Godric he would jump up and down in glee at the mere prospect of getting something 'exciting' to do.

Salazar pulled out his trunk and began piling his stuff into it.

At long last he only had Hedwig's cage left over that he would have to carry in his free hand while the other one hauled a ten ton trunk along. Joy.

He went downstairs and paused at the sound of the telly. Perhaps he should tell them.

Letting his trunk rest near the stairs he went to stand ominously at the door of the living room.

Dudley was the first to see him and scream like a little girl.

"Wha-what do you want?", asked his uncle fearfully, still not being able to stand up quickly due to his broken foot.

"I'm leaving", he said, "Bye", and turned around to fetch his things.

He was out of the door and down the street in seconds.

He asked Mrs. Figg if he could sit on her lawn and watch out for when his friend came along.

When two hours had passed and Godric still hadn't deigned him with his presence he was beginning to have doubts about leaving the Durleys house. It might be a horrible place filled with idiotic people, but it at least had a bed and a roof for him.

It was near midnight and Salazar had already dozed off, sitting on his trunk and holding Hedwig's cage like a teddy bear when he heard a loud rumble and woke with a jerk.

"'M'wake Helga", he mumbled as he blinked owlishly at his surroundings, "Huh?"

He looked around, there was nothing, but he could still hear a rumbling.

"What?", he said intelligently and let his gaze follow the noise – upwards.

"A flying car?", he said to himself, hoping he wasn't imagining things.

The car was most definitely flying. It was red and rather small. Salazar didn't know the model's name, but knew he had seen a similar one the other day in a different colour.

Deciding that this could only be Godric – because who else would want to come rescue him with a flying car? – Salazar sprinted to the middle of the road and began waving his arms.

The car descended towards his direction. Salazar jumped out of the way to let the car land and grinned as he watched a flustered Godric climb out of the car.

"Sal!", exclaimed Godric happily and went to give him his trademark bear-hug.

Eyeing the other passengers in the car Salazar quickly fell into an act, "Oh Ron! I'm so glad you could make it!", he said miserably.

Godric let go of him and eyed him weirdly.

"Thank you for coming all this way Ron, with your dad and – and – are those the twins?"

Mr. Weasley smiled at him, "They wouldn't stay at home when they heard we were coming to get you-", the man hesitated, "Are you alright, Harry? Ron was quite scarred by your letter."

Salazar glanced quickly at Godric who smiled sheepishly and then looked into Mr. Weasley's eyes, "Th-thank you for coming to get me Mr. Weasley. I – I'm so sorry I had to bother you, but I'm not sure I would have lasted much longer with the Durselys", he then gave Mr. Weasley his best imitation of a kicked puppy.

Mr. Weasley nodded and smiled warmly, "Don't worry about a thing, we can talk about it on the way to the Burrow – do your relatives know you're coming with us?"

Salazar sniffed and tried to summon tear to his eyes, but failed, "Yes Mr. Weasley, I told them I was leaving and they said they hoped I died so they never saw me again."

Mr. Weasley looked horrified.

Fred and George, who had gotten out of the car and looking at the Muggle houses in curiosity, were eyeing him shrewdly.

"C-can we leave now?", he asked with a stutter.

"Sure! Of course, um, could you just tell me which one is your house?", asked Mr. Weasley gently.

Salazar thought rapidly, "Th-the one with the blue shutters", he said and allowed Godric to guide him into the car.

Mr. Weasley looked around the street with a frown. All the houses had blue shutters.

The car was quite bigger on the inside than on the outside, back home this was only experimental.

Salazar and Godric sat in the backseat along with Salazar's trunk while Fred and George sat in the front with Mr. Weasley who drove.

"Why did Ron call you 'Sal', Harry?", asked one of the twins.

"Yeah!", agreed the other twin.

"It's a thing that started last year", said Salazar, careful to still sound like he was a second away from crying, "I can't remember how it started – but in the end Hermione agreed with Ron that I looked like a 'Sal'", he sniffed and Godric handed him a handkerchief.

"Huh?", said one of the twins, apparently it didn't make much sense to them. Neither did it to Salazar to be honest.

"Ron?", prompted the other twin since Salazar was too busy faking to be crying silently into the handkerchief.

"Um – it stated in a potions class – back when we still were in the same House – and there was this Salamander-"

As Godric launched into a ridiculous story of Salazar flaunting a Salamander at Hermione just for the kicks, Salazar stared at Godric in incredulity.

"-and then Hermione said he did indeed look like a Sal, but Harry didn't want to hear anything of it so I tried to bribe him into it with – eh – chocolate, yes, but he still didn't want to be called Sal, so I asked Hermione to help me and she-"

Salazar listened for the rest of the ride to the Burrow how Godric supposedly had to go through all types of hardships to be able to call him Sal.

When they arrived at the Burrow at last it was already morning and Salazar all but flew out of the car, accidentally hitting Godric with his trunk as he hauled it out behind him.

"Uh! S-Harry!", yelled Godric as he rubbed his knee.

Salazar looked tearily at him, "I'm so sorry Ron."

Godric rolled his eyes and let his dad guide Salazar to the Burrow.

Salazar was amazed by the house. It was so rickety and crooked only magic could be holding it together.

When they entered the kitchen Salazar had to once again play the kicked-puppy-that's-about-to-cry act for Mrs. Weasley while she fussed over him.

He didn't like being fussed over and Godric kept looking on with a bored expression as he sat at the table, elbow propped up and holding his head in his hand.

"S-Harry!", said Helga excitedly as she ran towards him and only just refrained herself from hugging him.

"Hi Ginny", he said with a genuine smile.

"Well then, let's all have a nice breakfast then", said Mrs. Weasley joyously and began preparing the sausages.

Helga was soon called to help and Godric was to show his room to Salazar.

"Best house I've been in since I came here", said Salazar once they were safely in Godric's room.

"It's the crookedness, isn't it?", said Godric with a grin, "I climbed it out the other day, got grounded for life, but I still think it was worth it."

Salazar shook his head, "Of course you climbed it out."

"So why did you ask for a rescue – the truth this time", said Godric and sat down on his bed.

"Because if I was left there another day I was going to kill something", said Salazar and sat down at Godric's side, "They're not only Muggles Godric, but morons as well. Even Mrs. Figg is dim and she's a Squib."

"What did she do then?"

"Not much, but the fact that she lets her cat use her legs as scratching posts is deeply disturbing."

"Can't say I disagree."

"She also the other day took the tube while still wearing her pompom slippers."

"What's a tube?"

"No idea."

They were silence for a moment – and then the ghoul starting banging the plumbing again.

"Is it only me or there's something up there?", asked Salazar while gazing at the ceiling.

"It's the ghoul and he's friendly, I checked", said Godric wistfully.

"Why is there a bloody ghoul in your attic?"

Godric shrugged.

They were all soon called for breakfast where Salazar ate as much as he could. Mrs. Weasley had a whispered conversation on the end of the table with Mr. Weasley of which Salazar could only understand that they thought he had been starved and probably neglected in some horrible way.

Fred, George and Percy were bickering with each other almost the whole time of the usage of an owl named Hermes and Helga tried to have him eat extra, basically mothering him. Perhaps she was concerned that he was so thin.

At the end of breakfast everyone that had been out on the rescuing expedition were allowed to go to bed for a couple of hours till it was lunch time.

Salazar had barely settled himself into the make-shift bed that he had to sleep in at Godric's room when Helga slipped in.

"Oi! I'm sleepy!", complained Godric as he sensed a conversation coming in.

"Then go sleep in the living room 'Ric", said Helga and sat at Salazar's side, "What. Happened?"

"Muggles", said Salazar solemnly, "Brutes. The whole lot of them."

"Didn't they give you anything to eat?", asked Helga seriously.

Salazar couldn't find it in himself to lie to her, "Not for a single day, I guilt-tripped Mrs. Figg into getting me a meal everyday so that helped, aside from that I was pretty much on my own resources."

"Own resources! But you don't have any Muggle resources!", said Helga, aghast.

"You know what I do when I don't have resources, I get them", he said, slyly.

"You mean you stole", said Godric matter-of-factly.

"Did you Sal'?", asked Helga

Salazar grinded his teeth, "Yes I did, happy now?"

"Oh Salazar", Helga hugged him.

"You did it for survival mate", said Godric earnestly, "I couldn't hold that against anybody."

Salazar relaxed, "Thanks guys."

Looking around the blatantly orange room Salazar asked, "So, how has this new life treated you?"

For the next week Salazar had the first decent days in his entire holidays. Rowena was writing daily now since she had given up reading as much as she could and because she was busy doing damage control with Godric. It turned out that she hadn't written about her books almost toppling on her to anybody else aside from Salazar, which made Godric quite irritated at her for trying to keep him in the dark.

Aside from having decent conversations and being roped into Quidditch games by the twins every so often the Burrow still was rather boring according to Godric, who would complain about the boredom every time he could. Helga had already kicked him in the shin once because of it so he now also stared at her along with Percy every mealtime. Percy and Godric seemed to have an excellent relationship and Mrs. Weasley couldn't help but hope loudly that Percy would be a good influence on him, especially after the house-climbing incident.

Only a week away from classes starting again they all made themselves ready and went to Diagon Alley with the thing called Floo.

Salazar had down right refused at the beginning and had to be pushed into the fire by Godric before he would do anything but bicker.

At the end Salazar was able to say the direction well enough, he had been working in a potions lab for ages, a little bit of smoke wasn't going to affect him too drastically.

Diagon Alley was a completely new experience for the Four Founders. First off was the BIG surprise that the old bank Gringotts had become so huge and so wealthy. Helga and Godric had been the first ones to make a treaty with the Goblins to guard their money. Helga had worked endless hours to ensure a banking policy that benefited both species equally and gave the Goblins the status had gold masters. They had begun with a sad brick building and about a dozen wizards trusting their money in them. By the time Rowena had – left – it had been a rather elegant brick building and almost seventy wizarding families.

They all wondered if their vaults still were in there somewhere, after all the years.

The whole Alley was new to be honest, the only thing that really wasn't was Ollivanders.

"Who the hell is Gilderoy Lockhart?", asked Godric as they watched the women swarm the bookstore.

"Isn't he the guy that wrote all of our school books?", asked Rowena interestingly, "It sounds like he knows his things."

"Well, if he really defeated all the creatures his books say he did, then I guess it'll be good for the students", said Godric with approval.

"If you say so", drawled Salazar, not really looking forward to getting into the madhouse that was the bookstore.

"Oh, if you only knew", said Helga behind him.

They turned to look at her.

"Shouldn't you be with mom?", asked Godric.

She shrugged, "Probably."

"Why don't you enlighten us with what according to you we should know", said Salazar.

"Lockhart is an idiot."

"You can't go around saying things like that, He-er-Ginny", said Rowena, "Not without due reason."

"But I have reason!"

"Spill it then", said Godric impatiently, who wanted to go to Fortesque to spend whatever meagre savings he had on a jumbo-sized sundae.

"Mom has his book on pests, I read the whole thing last year. You would be surprised how much a person can talk about himself in a book about how to take care of pests, but then again, he is a pest himself."

"So he's arrogant then. Is that what bothers you?", asked Rowena.

"Among other things."

"Oh?", inquired Rowena with a raised eyebrow.

"Can we do this another day? I still want to try out the chocolate sundae, they say it's delicious", said Godric impatiently.

"We should just go for the bleedin' books and go to the Leaky Cauldron, I heard that's where a Goblin rebellion broke out some hundreds of years ago", said Salazar, who was more interested in the historical quality of the Alley.

Rowena rolled her eyes, "S-Harry, if they made every place at which a Goblin war, rebellion, revolution, or skirmish has broken out historical, then you wouldn't go twenty feet without walking on historical ground."

"Can't we just go and see if it's true that there are scorch marks on the ceiling from the Goblin skirmish of 1902?"

"No", chorused Rowena and Godric at the same time.

"I'm disappointed in both of you", said Salazar haughtily.

"Can we just get the books then?", pleaded Godric, who really, really wanted to get himself ice cream.

Helga huffed, "Fine."

Inside the bookstore it was no better than how it looked like on the outside, in fact, it was worse.

The Four Founders made their way through the back and collected their books while keeping as far away as possible from the overexcited crowd that was there to see Lockhart.

They were already on their way out of the bookshop when they spotted Mrs. Weasley in the line of mostly women who wanted Lockhart's autograph on something.

"This is insane", said Salazar as he watched a young woman faint when she got her turn to have her book signed by Lockhart. The few people in the store that weren't obsessing over Lockhart or trying to protect the non-Lockhart books quickly dove forward and carried her away, hopefully to get some help.

"Planning out your future by watching Lockhart, Potter?", they heard the unmistakable voice of Draco Malfoy, "Looking out for tips already?"

Salazar snorted, "Please Draco, can't you come up with something better? Getting tips? What are you, five?"

Draco was reddening and was about to answer when an older man – probably a relative – came in through the door. Which was a feat in itself since the place was beyond packed.

"The famous Harry Potter", drawled the man and Salazar had to roll his eyes.

"I'm assuming you're a relative of Draco?", he said, employing some of his diplomatic knowledge.

"His father, actually, Lucius Malfoy", the man introduced himself.

"A Pleasure", he made sure that that 'pleasure' was with a capital 'P', "Draco can't seem to stop talking about you. You are a member of the board of school Governors, right? Oh and in personal contact with the Minister. Ah, and let us never forget that you own a Manor, must be beautiful from what Draco has been saying all year."

Lucius didn't look like he was sure what to do with what Salazar had just said so he instead turned to Godric, "Ah, a Weasley if the red hair and freckles is anything to go about", he sneered.

Godric blinked, "You know who I am?"

"Let's leave, Ron", said Rowena, who knew that this would turn ugly soon, one look at Malfoy and you already could guess as much.

Lucius went on as if Godric hadn't said a thing, "I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those", he motioned at the books they were carrying.

Godric scowled at him, "Hey-"

Mr. Weasley blundered in at that moment.

"Children, what are you doing here, it's too crowded, let's go outside-", he stopped and looked Lucius up and down, "Lucius", he said coldly.

Salazar's 'fight incoming' inner senses were going off madly, but he just stood and watched how Lucius continued to block the entrance to the bookstore and nobody was doing anything about it and how Mr. Weasley was now glaring at him through his thick rimmed glasses.

"Arthur", sneered Lucius.

The only noise at that side of the shop was of Rowena groaning.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear", said Lucius.

Fred and George appeared behind them as Lucius continued, going on about raids and whatnot.

"What's happening?", whispered one of them, he was carrying all kinds of supplies in his arms.

"Your father is blood feuding with Malfoy", Rowena said, who had a personal distaste for feuds of any sort but still partook in them whenever she wanted.

"Huh?", said the other twin, who was holding the cauldrons purchased that day after Helga had ditched her's on him.

Suddenly Malfoy paused in his speech of Weasley depression and plucked one of Helga's books from the stack she was holding.

"Oi!", she called.

It was a very old and battered copy of Transfiguration for Beginners.

"Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?", said Malfoy, still going on with his speech.

Mr. Weasley sniped back and Malfoy sniped back at him.

Helga was looking annoyed, "Hey! I don't care if you think it's some old tattered book, it's still mine and what you're doing is theft, mister!", she said indignantly.

Malfoy was still staring at her in surprise when Mr. Weasley barrelled into him, knocking him backward into a bookshelf.

An avalanche of spell books were raining on them while Fred and Georg were cheering.

Suddenly Mrs. Weasley was there shrieking at her husband to let it go and the shop assistant was trying to save his precious books.

Fortunately Hagrid came out of the blue and stopped the fight, before Salazar could draw more parallels between the normally calm Mr. Weasley and Helga – apparently, when they both got angered it was a serious matter.

Malfoy then trust Helga's book back at her and stormed out of the store.

They all soon followed suit while Mrs. Weasley was angrily shouting at Mr. Weasley for the scene that they had caused.

Helga just rolled her eyes and dumped all her books in the cauldron one of the twins were holding, "I'm out of here, who still wants that damn ice cream?"

There was a general agreement, but the twins were too busy watching where the fight between their parents was going to pay any real attention to where they were going.

They had their ice creams, with Salazar paying for most of it because Godric hadn't had that much savings in the first place.

"You know", he said as he licked off his spoon, "I almost feel bad that I'm spending this money", said Godric as they all sat round one of the tables on the outside of the shop.

"Why?", asked Rowena and took a bite of her strawberry with chocolate chips ice cream.

"It's the savings of a little boy who probably would have wanted to spend it on something Quidditch related and here I am – blowing it up on myself – this is one of the last things Ron Weasley left behind."

"What are you talking about? You are Ron Weasley", said Rowena.

"Come on Row', haven't you ever, even once felt like you were taking somebody else's place since we came to the future?"

They all were thoughtful for a moment.

"I guess – but I'm still Hermione, along with Rowena, we're the same. Ron and Godric are the same, Godric is just Ron having matured and grown up. Same with Salazar and Harry, and Helga and Ginny."

Salazar smiled, "That actually makes sense."

"Of course it does", Rowena said haughtily, "It was me who said it after all."

* * *

 **Hope you liked it! I read this through a couple of times and every time seemed to stumble upon a typo or something so please tell me if you see one that I missed.**

 **Like always, Britpicking is welcome and any thoughts on the story are welcome too.**

 **Please comment.**


	8. Hogwarts again

**So after longer than I would have wanted, here it is! I finally have updated! :D**

 **Hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

Hogwarts again.

"Why are we sitting here again, like nothing has happened?", asked Godric.

"Because there is no way in hell I am going with you to Hogwarts, driving a car 'Ric, so give up on that one already", griped Salazar.

He still didn't understand how it had happened. The whole Weasley family had just gone through the barrier, but when it was their turn it had suddenly turned solid.

"It doesn't make sense", muttered Salazar, watching the passing Muggles with disdain.

"Stop watching like that", said Godric. Oh great, it was going to be one of _those_ days.

"Watching like what, Godric?"

"Like they're the ones behind all this, like they're the ones to blame, when the only ones to blame for this are the witches and wizards", said Godric, who if he ever was going to say something intelligent, it was going to be in defence of the Muggles.

"We shouldn't have to be hiding like this", said Salazar sternly.

"Oh yeah? What do you propose as best course of action then?"

"Not this, definitely not this."

"We have been hiding ourselves for ages, why should we give this up now?"

"Because we shouldn't be hiding, we're not freaks" said Salazar bitterly.

Godric, who knew better than anyone how Salazar could become bitter so quickly, just sighed in annoyance.

"What? Going to tattletale me again with Helga?", asked Salazar with scorn.

Godric's head snapped up and narrowed his eyes at Salazar, "I don't need Helga to help with this. We've had this argument long before you even met her back home. Even then you kept blaming everything on the mug-people", Godric shook his head in antipathy, "Look at you now Salazar Slytherin, deep in your nineties and you still blame everything on them. And Rowena calls you smart! You're thick as a rock!"

Salazar sneered at him, "Oh yeah? Well, it wasn't mug-people who starved me during the holidays were they? Just thick old me who must have gotten it all wrong!"

"Just because you lived with the worst kind of muggles doesn't make them all the same! You know as well as me that there are good muggles, but you can't seem to get over your hate for them even then!"

"Hah! You are clearly blinded Godric, Golden Boy of the Griffins!"

"Are we going through that again? I thought you had gotten over that when we were in our twenties", scowled Godric. Salazar had at the beginning resented that title like it was a personal insult.

"What? You embracing a mug-title and using all your wizarding powers to jump at the summons of all the mug-kings who could call you? You gave up your life for those foul muggles Godric. Left your wife alone with all the burdens of the school and your children without their father", Salazar leered.

Godric was about to answer him back when he saw Professor McGonagall and his parents walk towards them. Both him and Salazar dropped their argument right there and got up to speak with McGonagall.

"Professor McGonagall, we don't know what happened!", began Salazar.

"We couldn't get through!", added Godric.

"It's like the barrier got sealed!", said Salazar.

"Not to worry Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, it has all been fixed now. When Mr. and Mrs. Weasley didn't see you come through they began to ask around and soon found out that you weren't where you were supposed to be and then they couldn't use the barrier. So I was called in", she explained.

Salazar nodded in understanding, "Have we missed the train?"

"No, it's waiting for you, so I'd advise haste for now", she said.

They both nodded and thanked the woman before they ran to fetch the train, Godric's parents trailing behind them and bidding them good-bye.

Once on the train they didn't have to search much before they found the compartment that contained Rowena and Helga.

"The barrier just seized to work?", said Rowena after they had explained what had happened.

"Yup", said Godric with a nod.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that", said Godric with another nod.

"And McGonagall just said – what? – not to worry?", Rowena sniffed haughtily, "Things like this didn't happen back home."

"We didn't have a train back home, 'Row", said Godric.

"Still the same, this shouldn't be happening", Rowena clearly wasn't impressed with the whole ordeal.

Neither Godric nor Salazar really cared about it that much, they were both seated at the extreme ends of the compartment, as far from each other as possible.

Both Rowena and Helga noticed this.

"What's wrong with you two?", asked Helga finally.

No answer.

Generally Rowena could determine the gravity of the situation from their answers, but this time all she needed was their silence.

"What did you fight about?", Rowena asked.

Again no answer.

Helga groaned, "Please tell me it's not the mug-people thing again."

"And what if it was?", snapped Salazar.

Rowena sighed and let her head rest in her hands for a couple of moments, then she looked up to Godric, "What did he argue this time that made you so quiet?"

Godric didn't say a word, only kept looking at the compartment door.

Helga narrowed her eyes at both of them, "Can I talk with Salazar alone for a moment?"

Godric stood up with a huff and went to stand outside, Rowena quickly followed.

"She's going to have a go at him because of his family", said Rowena once the door was closed and she could hear Helga start her tirade on Salazar.

"For all that I will always argue with him over muggles, I actually agree this time that he shouldn't just let it go."

"Do you really think, even if she convinces him not to, that he'd just let it go?"

Godric smiled faintly at that, "Nope, he might traumatize them a little. Make a show of throwing something into their food and having them eat it, even if it just was water. Watch them while they sleep and grin at them when they wake up – or perhaps paint their shutters lime green. Even that might upset them from what I understand."

Rowena nodded and then changed the subject, "What did he tell you to have you this upset?"

Godric considered not telling her for a moment and thought better of it.

He sighed.

"Fine – but don't breath a word of this to anybody-"

"Who would I tell? Helga? If she doesn't already know she'll know soon enough."

"Yes, yes", Godric paused, "He blames muggles for my death."

Silence followed that statement.

The corridors were empty aside from them. The only noises that could be heard we those of the train moving, its engines and Helga and Salazar arguing in the compartment.

"You didn't, did you?", asked Godric after a while, "Blame the muggles."

"Them? I don't know. I blamed you, the stupid prince who started the war, Sal – you – everybody I guess. Probably them as well. I was so angry", she trailed off after that, looking sadly at the floor.

"Oh", it was all Godric could think of saying. It felt like he had just said the understatement of the millennium, but what else could he say? He'd gone and died and he hadn't meant to. He really hadn't meant to.

"I'm sorry", he added after a while.

"I know", came Rowena's answer as she grabbed his hand and held it tightly.

Eventually Salazar let them back in and they continued the journey in silence for about an hour.

Surprising them all Rowena was the one who broke the ice.

"So, what do you propose we do this year? I say we make plan to go looking for our vaults at Gringotts. I bet you they are still there somewhere, probably a big fortune already. We did make many investments back then."

"Or we could start spreading rumours of our back-coming. It's better if we do it gradually than one day just appear. It would cause some difficulties", Salazar added.

"I say we wait a bit with the banking accounts. I have all I need as it is and even Sal' has the Potter account so we should all be set for a while where money is concerned", said Helga.

"All we need? Helga have you seen your books? Or your uniform for that matter?", said Godric, clearly flabbergasted at what she'd said.

"Well, I admit that after the books went through the twin's paws they probably will never be the same, but-"

"We can't even buy everything we want!"

"And what is this you want so desperately, Godric?", questioned Rowena.

"Probably a new sword", huffed Helga.

Salazar narrowed his eyes at Godric, "Is this about the sundaes?"

Godric spluttered, "What? No!"

Helga gasped, "It is! You're still upset you couldn't buy that jumbo-sundae!"

"I really can't believe it", Rowena shook her head in a condescending manner.

"But it was the triple-jumbo-chocolate-caramel-cookie-chips-sundae!", whined Godric.

"Oh for goodness sake Godric!", Rowena glared at him.

"You can't appreciate the wonder of a sundae Rowena!"

"I don't care about the wonder of any ice-cream!"

Godric gasped in mock horror.

Salazar tsked, "Ye monster, Rowena, how can't ye value the wonder?", there was a light smirk on his lips and Helga was sniggering behind her hands.

Rowena huffed and smiled lightly at them, "The wonder indeed."

After that the mood went on quite easily. Godric and Salazar were soon talking to each other again and even sooner were they all playing Exploding Snap.

Soon they got joined by some Gryffindors who upon entering the compartment seemed unsure if they still liked Salazar and Rowena on their second year in a new House. Godric then gave them a pointed look which had, back home, caused several army generals to surrender themselves.

No time later they were all enjoying themselves while Godric still tried to teach Neville Longbottom how to grunt 'like a man'. Rowena just kept rolling her eyes the whole time.

Salazar had a vague recollection that Godric had done the same with his children until Rowena had hit him with a book and told him to stop. Salazar would have felt better because of that – only Neville wasn't her child – so who knew what would become of the poor boy.

Once they all arrived they all got to use for the first time the Thestral carriages. Rowena almost hadn't gotten on one, insisting that she would just walk all the way, but Godric and Helga managed to carry her into one.

Afterwards she would comment on the excellent training of the Thestrals and how one wouldn't even know the carriages were being pulled by them.

Once back at Hogwarts – their home. Godric, Rowena and Salazar all went to their respective House tables and happily sat down where they had always belonged.

The Sorting began soon after with the Hat giving a song that exalted the intelligence of the Gryffindors, the worthiness of the Hufflepuffs, the modesty of the Ravenclaws and the kindness of the Slytherins.

Everybody sat dumbfounded for a moment after the song had finished before uncertain and hesitant clapping started.

At the staff table the Founders were surprised to see Gilderoy Lockhart seated there, grinning like an idiot.

The rest of the faculty looked the same as ever except for Snape who had only gotten greyer.

Soon Helga was Sorted into Hufflepuff where she was welcomed with a hearty applause.

After the feast was over Godric happily chatted with his Gryffindor friends on their way up to their Tower and introduced himself to all the new first years and got to know them. He organized an Exploding Snap game with half of everybody present at the common room at the moment and made sure everybody was happy.

Rowena, on her way to the Ravenclaw Tower began getting to know the new first years and upon arriving in the common room took part of a trivia game the older students were playing. Soon half the House were taking part and at the end Rowena allowed herself to get the fifth place. Everybody was impressed at the supposed second year.

Down in the Basement Helga took it upon herself to get to know as many as possible members from her house. It was difficult, being the new one. But nothing had ever stopped Helga from doing anything, she was renewed for being a hard worker after all. And if there is anything a Hufflepuff likes it's a hard worker. They soon all came to like her.

At the other side of the castle, a little deeper, where the Dungeons were, Salazar was already networking with the new students. The older ones still were a bit wary of him. They had noticed the ease with which he had gotten most of Draco Malfoy's friends to like him and how he was basically turning the tables on the brat. Everybody was still amazed that the Boy-Who-Lived turned out to have it in him to defy Malfoy, who had all his year's peers eating from his hand by the time he arrived.

Even their Head of House had noticed and they all knew it was working on his nerves. Nobody was that good at it – at least, not a second, never mind a first year.

Salazar noticed them stare, he heard the whispers and even the blind could see what was ailing Snape. When he was alone he would smile at himself.

* * *

The first day of lessons was quite boring – if you were in Slytherin and Ravenclaw. If you were in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff you got both Herbology and Defence, the former which Salazar had heard was rather interesting. He'd always been good at Herbology and was looking forward to the work with the Mandrakes.

Though not to the classes with Lockhart.

Salazar had soon discovered that the man was one of the most idiotic people he'd ever had the misfortune to lay his eyes upon in his whole life – and that was saying something.

First he'd run into an obstinate first year Gryffindor who was star-struck with him and wanted his photo and autograph. Malfoy – who had yet to insult him since the beginning of the new school year – looked ready to launch into some sort of rant when Salazar held his hand before the boy and said in a very firm voice 'no'.

He'd then had to drag the boy away and explain to him very slowly that he wasn't about to put up with his nonsense so he better let it go.

By the end of his lecture the boy ran away, frightened.

When he got back Draco only sneered at him and walked away with his flanks, the only two who were left of his original circle of friends. Salazar felt a little bit of pity for the boy. It was obvious that he was dead jealous of Harry Potter's fame, but Harry Potter's fame was the last thing Salazar wanted. So he began to plan on how to finally get Draco out of his way and onto his side.

Later that day, instead of going to the library to meet his friends he went to the Slytherin common room and sat across Draco, where he was working on his homework on a small desk.

Draco scowled, "What do you want, Potter?"

Salazar sighed dramatically, "I propose we get over this. It's getting boring anyways."

Draco narrowed his eyes at him, "What are you on with, Potter?"

"Easy. This never ending feud. I want it over, it's not good for either of our images."

Draco sat silent for a few seconds, "And how do you suppose we end it then?"

Salazar grinned.

Draco had the fleeting sensation that this was what it felt to bargain with fire. No matter what you did or said, the fire still had a mind of its own and was uncontrollable.

* * *

"He did what?!", said Helga and then burst into laughter.

"It wasn't funny!", said Godric, unable to shout it in the library, "Some of the pixies hanged Neville on the chandelier! And then he fell down! He could have broken something!"

"His neck for example", said Rowena, her mouth set in a straight line.

"Exactly!"

"Oh, 'Ric, remember when Gratius Hammer had that head-bashing competition in what is today the Quidditch field? You didn't bat an eye at that and six students had to stay in their dormitories for a week due to injuries", said Helga, still slightly shaking with laughter.

"Those were students! A children's play! Not even Rowena got that much angry at the students that participated", countered Godric.

"It was a children's thing, they do stupid things. Sooner or later, it's just a matter of time. Under their professors' care or in their classes they should be safe. Nothing should happen to them there", said Rowena darkly.

"What about Potions then? We had that today and one of my classmates' cauldron exploded. It was quite a sight", said Helga.

Godric sighed and rolled his eyes, "Fine – in some classes at a magical school, things like that are bound to happen. Especially in Potions, Charms, Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology, in the rest stuff can also happen, it's just less likely."

"That's why we have experts to teach the children", began Rowena, "Not morons like Lockhart that was foolish enough to set loose a cage full of savage Cornish pixies on a class of second years without teaching them the defensive spell first."

Helga tipped her head to the side, "You have me there. He did slip up pretty bad, but I still say that you never know. It's his first week after all, it could have been a genuine accident."

Godric shook his head, "You weren't there. It wasn't a genuine accident, it was the man's idiocy shining through", he huffed and narrowed his gaze at Helga, "Why are you defending him anyways?"

"I'm only stating that it's too soon to judge-"

"For goodness sake Helga", Rowena rolled her eyes, "You brought his books as well, have you read through them? There are gaps if you look closely. The dates barely make sense, there are so many question marks I place on his works that it's almost ridiculous."

"I stand by my point", said Helga.

"What is wrong with you? Where's Salazar so he can help me with this?", asked Godric, looking around the library.

"I haven't seen him since lunch", said Helga.

"We had Charms together after lunch", said Rowena, "But I haven't seen him since."

"So he's missing?", said Godric half-enthusiastic, half-worried. Even if it was best friend that might be missing, there's still nothing that thrills a hero as much as a rescue mission.

"I think there is a law now that you have to be missing for 48 hours before you are officially missing", said Rowena, recalling one of the books she'd read on the holidays.

"Ah."

"Look, there goes some second year Slytherins", said Rowena and got up to hail them over.

A boy who Godric recognized as Blaise Zabini walked over.

"What do you want?", he drawled.

"Have you seen Harry?", asked Godric as politely as he could.

"Him? Last I saw him he was sitting with Draco – probably giving him another lecture, he does that", answered Zabini.

A girl he knew was called Pansy approached them, "Poor Draco, he's going to crack under him soon, he's the only one in our year that still dislikes him openly", she said.

"Last time I checked you also despised Harry", said Rowena.

"Well, he somehow convinced Millicent and Tracy to be on his side and it gets boring being the only girl who dislikes him", said Pansy nonchalantly.

Helga raised an eyebrow at that.

"He's good at what he does. Can't see why the Hat didn't place him in Slytherin in the first Sorting", said Zabini, "He's soon gonna have the whole House under his control, it's no secret, that's why Snape is getting greyer and greyer."

Helga had both eyebrows raised now.

"Er – thanks Zabini", said Godric uncertainly.

The two Slytherins left.

"Peer pressure? He's executing peer pressure on second years?", said Helga, aghast.

"First years actually, most of this comes from last year", said Rowena.

"But why? They're only children!"

"Nasty children, Helga, very nasty children", said Godric, "I think he's been doing it to break down Malfoy, that kid is a menace."

"A menace? Sal' has always loved those ones. Called them the ones with true potential", said Helga, still unable to believe what Salazar was doing.

"What did he call Malfoy once? Ah, yes, undisciplined and stuck on one note – his father. I think he's trying to help him – in his own weird way", concluded Godric.

Helga still looked unhappy.

Godric tried another route, "Cheer up, I kept telling him to make the brat's life miserable last year – he did listen to me, but only a little bit – the rest of the time the brat did all he wanted. Had his flanks hit Neville every chance they got, both with spells and physically. He was a bully Helga, and you and I both know what Sal' thinks about bullies."

Helga let her shoulders sag a little bit, "Yeah. In that case I can only hope this stops soon."

Rowena nodded, "Not only because using peer pressure on twelve year olds is bad, but because he's getting too much attention. That's not good for him either."

They all nodded at that.

* * *

"So are we understood now?", said Salazar after a long conversation with Draco.

The brat looked weary and wary, he swallowed heavily and nodded, "Yes."

Salazar wondered why the brat looked like he had just signed a contract with the devil.

"Excellent", he said and stood up, "You go on with whatever it was you were doing before, I'll go on my way then."

As he walked away he heard the boy sigh in relief – or possibly in despair – one couldn't be sure.

He went to his dorm and sat on his bed to finish whatever little homework he had and turn in for an early night.

He had worked long and hard to bring down Malfoy from his little pedestal of power. He'd tried being sassy, he'd tried lecturing the boy, and then he'd realized that he was going to have to break down the brat's little pyramid of power. You can't be on the top of the pyramid if there is no pyramid.

The only ones that were still at Draco's side were Gregory and Vincent, but they were brought with money and so stupid that they were almost brain dead so nobody really bothered with them. Not even Draco liked them that much. Salazar knew it was all just a matter of time.

He'd used his skill as best he could to bring it all toppling down fast. Some thought he was on his warpath to take over the whole House, but he had no such intentions – yet. In the meantime he'd also arranged that little set up to get Draco some detention while everything was crumbling down slowly.

Salazar didn't enjoy it, it wasn't enjoyable to use peer pressure on little children, but he had needed it to put the brat in his place – and to set an example for the older ones.

Don't be a bloody disgrace to your House.

He hoped the message was clear.

The next day, after classes he finally met with his fellow Founders and was made to explain himself to Helga and the others.

After that was sorted out weeks of peace and quiet began. There was no major news going in the school except the ever-present gossip that Lockhart was a bloody moron.

All the Founders had already found enough proof to declare him brainless. Rowena was writing down an essay, forty inches long, so far consisting of why he was bad and was recollecting signatures from Ravenclaws to then send it to the Headmaster.

"So, did you hear about the Deathday party the ghosts are going to hold down there in the dungeons?", asked Godric one day as they sat at the edge of the lake.

Rowena looked up from her book, "Ah, Helena mentioned it. Said it sounded like something big to her – advised me not to go near."

"Who's Deathday party?", asked Salazar as he picked up another cobble to throw into the lake.

"Nearly Headless Nick's", answered Godric, who was also looking for a cobble to throw.

"How do you know this?", asked Helga, seated on the grass and eyeing the grey clouds with suspicion. It had been raining a lot lately.

"Helena told me, I go to visit her sometimes you see", he said sadly, no longer looking for cobbles.

There was silence for a while.

"When is this thing then?", asked Salazar at last. If it was going to be held in his dungeons he wanted to know.

"In a month? I think?", said Godric uncertainly.

"Yeah, in a month", agreed Rowena.

"And they already invited us? The four of us?", asked Helga incredulously.

"We're the Founders. Almost all the ghosts and magical creatures in Britain know we're back by now. Only they can't tell because along with the news of us being here goes the news of us not wanting anybody to know", explained Salazar, who had made sure that both rumours went together.

"Are we going then?", asked Godric.

"Hell, no", said Helga.

"Nah-ah", said Salazar.

"Helena warned me not to", said Rowena.

Godric pouted, "You guys are no fun."

"You go then, it's your House's ghost's Deathday party after all", said Salazar.

"You know, I might just do that!"

"Oh dear", said Helga and pointed over to the Quidditch field.

"There they go again", sighed Godric.

The Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch teams had been fighting each other tooth and nails for the pitch for weeks now. Snape kept giving the Slytherins clearance for the whole week while McGonagall did exactly the same. A fight almost ensued daily now.

"Thank goodness it's not my problem", said Salazar.

"Ditto", said Godric, still watching the Quidditch teams fight each other in the air.

"You know the Ravenclaws are quite angry that the pitch keeps being used by either Slytherins or Gryffindors", commented Rowena.

"The Hufflepuffs are on the same mind set", said Helga.

"Thank goodness that isn't my problem either", said Salazar.

The fights escalated within the next couple of weeks. The group of four some days took to walk near Hagrid's and watch them fight. Godric claimed it good entertainment and sometimes he and Salazar would start cheering for their teams to knock out the members of the other team.

Needless to say Rowena didn't approve.

On their walks in that direction they soon began to know Hagrid better, who would sometimes come to sit with them with some tea and fudge – which nobody dared to try after the first time – and chat while they waited for somebody to come running from the castle to stop the fight.

"That's it Wood! Hit him on the chin!", shouted Godric one afternoon as they all watched the day's newest fight between teams.

"What are you doing Flint?! Get your arse up on your broom and hit him!", shouted Salazar and shook his head, "You would think that with faster brooms they'd been doing better than this."

Hagrid boomed with laughter, "Righ' ye are, Harry. Bu' no Slyth'rin can match Wood as he's now", he pointed out.

Salazar nodded at him, "I have to give you that, he's so persistent he'll probably win the cup again through sheer stubbornness."

"You should read mom's letters to the twins, she's getting worried about all the rumours of fighting going on between the teams", said Godric, Helga nodding along.

"What is she worried about? They've already knocked out all the Chasers' teeth at least twice", said Salazar.

Godric shrugged, "She doesn't know that."

Rowena shook her head and turned to Salazar, "How's Malfoy's knee injury going?"

When the fights had barely begun Draco had made sure to acquire 'a severe knee injury' and constantly made a show of limping about the castle and mostly stayed in the common room moaning about the terrible pain he was in.

"As false as ever – but don't tell him that, it upsets him deeply", said Salazar sagely.

Hagrid laughed loudly and Rowena rolled her eyes. She had an idea who had proposed the whole thing to Malfoy to begin with.

After the so called 'conversation' Salazar had had with Malfoy the boy seemed to be constantly at his side and was acting more and more how Rowena remembered Slytherins to act back home. Salazar also didn't complain as much about him as before and had once actually said that there was hope for the brat.

"No Wood what are you doing he's to your left!", shouted Godric, once again tuned in with the fight.

"How do they plan to ever win a game if they get beaten in every fight?", questioned Helga.

"Don't know, don't care – that's it Flint! Hit him harder!", cheered Salazar.

Ten minutes later somebody come down from the castle and stopped the fight. The four soon after parted company with Hagrid – not before he once again showed them his marvellous pumpkin patch – and were off to the castle.

The next week came Halloween and they were all reading themselves for the day. Salazar, Rowena and Helga went together to the feast while Godric went down to the Deathday party with Helena.

"I almost felt bad for not going, but the way Helena shook her head when 'Ric said he'd be taking her to the party was enough to tell me I was right to listen to her", said Rowena as they entered the Hall, everything beautifully decorated for the feast, Hagrid's pumpkins being the center of attention.

"She was always smart", said Salazar and spotted his year-mates waving him over at the Slytherin table, "They're calling me – enjoy the feast!", and he was going.

Rowena and Helga also parted ways and began enjoying the great feast.

Salazar, just like Helga and Rowena, were still chatting with fellow House members when the rest of the Hall emptied out.

Suddenly there was screaming coming from outside the Hall.

"What in Merlin's name was that?", asked Draco as they all got up and began making their way to the entrance of the Hall.

"Who knows", said Salazar and quickened his pace. Somehow, he had a bad feeling about this.

* * *

 **DUN DUN DUN DUUUUUUN**

 **Who could be the culprit this time?**

 **How are the Founders going to handle the situation?**

 **Please review!**


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